Salem's Servant Up For Adoption
by Christian Maulkner
Summary: [Up for adoption] With his transcripts denied and his pockets emptier than a starving man's stomach, Jaune Arc was anything but fine. No way was he going back home - that would mean he gave up. So when a high-paying job as a servant for a rich family came up, he took it without hesitation. Only... there was no family, and his mistress certainly wasn't normal either. [Fantasy AU]
1. Chapter 1

_**Hewwo! OwO mwy name is Chwistian ^w^ XD and I'm back with anothew stowy fow u guys! =W= xP I wuv to have immowaw intewcouwse with animaws :) UwU XDDD**_

_** God, that was hard to type. Goodbye to any reader who had instantly clicked off this fic.**_

_** Anyway, new story. This is the reason I haven't worked on and updated R&D in a long while. That and goddamn vidya.**_

_** This is a fantasy AU Jaune x Salem story, as you could probably tell. I don't how long I'll take this, but I know it'll be in three different arcs. The overall tone will be (mostly) lighthearted, a bit cartoony and humorous (I hope so), with a bit of self-awareness sprinkled here and there. But perhaps sometime down the line, it'll get a little teary and angsty.**_

_** This was inspired by A. Lee Martinez's "Too Many Curses" and iammemyself's Portal fic "Portal: Love as a Construct". I recommend you go check them. I'm still not finished with either of them, but they're good stories so far.**_

_** With that out of the way, hope you enjoy.**_

* * *

Salem's Servant: Chapter 1

* * *

The night air was cold and near freezing, as if winter had decided to make an early visit upon the grand city. The winds that would occasionally sweep by bit and stung his already gelid skin. They were ruthless in their efforts to make his night even more miserable, and he could only do so much as burrow himself further into his worn coat and suck it up. He had experienced much colder nights before – this one was like hot night in the middle of a blazing summer.

Jaune's unkempt and filthy blonde hair swayed idly as he continued to walk down the cobblestone road. He could really go for a bath right now. When was the last time he had a bath? He couldn't exactly remember. All this trouble of trying to find some place to stay for the night for the past two or so weeks had him forgetting things all the time.

Chatter and merriment sounded around him. He must have unknowingly wandered into the more privileged areas of the city, where bright lights were everywhere and more quaint and rich-looking architecture surrounded the streets. No matter what time of the day, there were always so many happy people roaming around these areas. Don't get him wrong; he always like seeing people being happy. You could say their high spirits were quite contagious to the blonde. But nowadays, especially with his current predicament, listening to their laughs was like listening to a horrible orchestra. He wanted to plug his ears up and block them out.

But even if he tried, they were still clear as glass. Jaune sighed, running his mucky hand through his hair.

_Jaune, you're an idiot. A big, dumb idiot._

It had been about a few weeks ago when his current situation had taken arise. He had just taken a long trip to large city of Vale. A very, _very _long trip to Vale. Endless miles and dirt paths of exasperating walking and hitchhiking, to be exact. And it was all for one reason: to enter Beacon Academy. The most prestigious knight training academy in all of Remnant. It was famed for being the alma mater of many honored and famous knights, such as his late great-grandfather. Their training and teaching was unlike any other training academy out there. Sure, their curriculum was bit… harsh, especially when you have no idea what you're doing. But the outcome was worth trudging through endless hours of back-breaking physical and combat training if you wanted to become a knight.

A knight. That was what Jaune wanted to become: a knight. Someone who saved people. Someone who vanquished those who did nothing but evil with the slice of a sword. Someone who was regarded as a hero throughout the entire land. As a young little child, becoming a hero was something of a life-long dream of his. After reading all those heroic fantasy books and hearing all his sisters' bedtime stories, it was nigh impossible to not want to become a hero.

But unfortunately for his younger self, many obstacles laid in his path to his dream. His parents, for one. Throughout his heroics-fueled childhood, they had been so adamant on keeping his dreams just that – dreams. Every breakfast, lunch and dinner, they would always jump to suggesting another less dangerous career, like a blacksmith or a baker. And every time he brought up his plans to become a knight, they would either ignore him or tell him to shut up (okay, it was less harsh than that, but you get the point).

His sisters were a problem as well. Although they weren't as discouraging as his parents were, they weren't as encouraging either. They mostly ignored him and went on with their day whenever he uttered a single word about knights or heroics. That was when they were on good moods. Other times, they often scoffed at him, laughing at the image of him in knight's armor like it was some funny joke to them.

And they, more often than not, were not in good moods.

It broke his heart numerous times. His own sisters, the same people that cared for him more than anyone else, laughing at him for wanting to become a knight. A hero. His life-long dream. It was soul-crushing. Like getting his little young heart stabbed every time they scoffed or mocked him. Wanting to cry many times back then didn't help either. Knights didn't cry. They would be weak if they did.

Perhaps all of that was the reason why he felt no remorse when running away. No lingering guilt, no looking back. He grabbed whatever stuff and amount of gold he could carry, stuffed them into a travelling pack and sneaked away at the dead of night, his eyes set straight for Vale.

No lingering guilt, no looking back.

It was a long journey to the city of Vale. One that made him wish for some kind of teleportation spell or something, because it was like walking along a long, long road of sharp spikes bare feet with heavy rocks strapped to your legs under blearing suns and a harsh cold moons, with bits of heavy rain sprinkled in between. He endured though, and eventually made it to the city's gates, grinning in sheer happiness that he had arrived.

That was when his problems began.

Looking back now, if he had the power to travel back in time, he would go back and punch himself in the face so hard, his jaw would dislodge itself from his head for being such a moron. Along the journey, amongst the trouble of trudging through Mother Nature, he had totally forgotten that he needed official, authorized transcripts to even be considered by Beacon's staff. And in the off chance that he did get accepted, he would still need to pass initiation to be fully accepted into the academy, which from what he had heard, required lots of prior physical and swordsmanship training to barely get a passing mark.

Jaune had neither of those, nor transcripts.

He panicked then, struggling with coming up with something. Submission of transcripts only lasted for two days more since his arrival at Vale, initiation started a week after that, and that sure wasn't enough to train himself.

That was when he decided to get a little… illegal.

Morality be damned in times of desperation.

Thanks to word of mouth and a bit of eavesdropping, he had managed to find someone who could forge him some transcripts. A shady looking fellow, who seemed to have a knack for high-class clothing, bowler hats and girlish make-up. Of course, being illegal, it was horrifyingly expensive, more than enough to drain all the gold he had brought with him.

But he was desperate, so he shrugged the price off and went along with the deal, and eventually sent the transcripts to Beacon, albeit very late at night. As for training, he could hopefully train himself. Buy a cheap set of armor and a sword from a backwater weapon's shop someplace, and train himself in the forests outside the city. He had a week to train himself. That was more than enough for him to get a basic grasp on sword techniques and fighting stances.

…And then came the rejection letter.

And it hadn't even been a full day yet. As soon as he woke up the next morning after submitting his transcripts, the owner of the inn he was staying in came knocking at his door with the letter at his hands. The very apologetic, officially sealed rejection letter. After reading through the entire thing, he could only sit on his bed in silence. He was tired and lacking of sleep, and in his hands was the confirmation of the destruction of his dreams. All the frantic work he had done the past few days, all the dreaded walking, all the numerous mosquito bites he got from having to camp outside. It was all for nothing…

That day, Jaune did nothing but cry.

And what's worse, he only had himself to blame. If he had been training like he should have when he was younger, if he had been actually striving to become a good knight, then he maybe… maybe he would have actually had a shot at Beacon. But no, he wasted it all on daydreaming and playing make-believe. Reading those tales of heroics like it would actually make his dream come true, when all it did was rot his mind with false hope and childishness.

Jumping off the highest cliff and falling to your death had never sounded so nice.

And as if the rejection wasn't enough, he practically had no gold left to his name. He had spent almost all of his gold on the transcripts, which had left him with only enough for a few scraps of food.

Now he was both miserable and broke. How wonderful.

When his stay at the inn came to an end, he spent the next few days wandering around Vale, downhearted, hungry and with no place to go. A part of his mind told him to go back to Ansel. To go back to his family. They would no doubt take him back in. Despite all the soul-crushing, they weren't that cruel.

But another, bigger part of his mind screamed not to. Screaming that there was no going back to that place. Going back would mean giving up, and knights didn't give up. Jaune may be no knight now, but he still had the willpower of one. He wasn't one to just give up so easily, especially through all he had been through.

And that's how he ended up staying in Vale. For the past days, he had went all around Vale, looking for odd jobs that could help him get some gold for food and a cheap place to stay for a night or two. His plan had been to scrounge up enough gold to be able to stay afloat until he could find a proper, stable job, or even open up small-time business of sorts, like a café or a restaurant.

But sadly, there were none that paid enough. He did some deliveries for a few stories and a few cleaning and dishwashing jobs for restaurants, but they barely ever gave him enough for a warm meal.

Which now leads us to now…

As Jaune continued making his way down the road, he noticed a couple of guards on horses trotting down from afar, pulling along a large metal cage on a wagon. Inside the cage was a woman whose old age should've definitely killed her. Her hair was a dying silver, and the wrinkles on her face were more copious than the entire city's tax money combined. Despite her old age, she pulled and pulled on the poles of the cage, demanding her release like a rapping monster. The cage rocked and shook as it was pulled, making her lose her balance a couple of times.

The guards and the cage continued down the road and past him, disappearing past a bunch of buildings. Jaune watched all of this and shook his head once it was gone.

Crime wasn't the only thing the knights of Vale had to worry about. The city seemed to be a popular attraction for a lot of witches, and they were not as friendly as tourist from other cities and kingdoms are. They were evil, terrorizing small, defenseless villages and lonely travelers seemingly to satisfy their thirsts for villainy and havoc. Most witches he had heard from newspapers and the news board of Ansel usually weren't a serious threat. Some only managed to burn down a small number of empty homes and buildings before they were stopped by nearby patrols.

But some had the strength, spells and power as a small army of well-armed knights. Those were the more experienced witches who had been around for a long while. They were ruthless and dangerous, able to easily wipe out an entire village in mere minutes. Jaune had managed to hear a couple of villages nearby Ansel that had been destroyed by the stronger witches thanks to word of mouth, and he would shudder every time.

Not only were they strong, but they were also immortal. Well, most anyway, at least the ones who managed to learn how to give themselves immortality. Which meant as long as they weren't executed (which they often were), they could escape capture and go on to wreak havoc and chaos whenever they liked for all eternity (or at least until the world ended).

Witches were the only things that managed to scare him and make him hesitant of becoming a knight – that and the endless armor polishing he had to do during the starting days of academy. Call him a scaredy cat, but witches were terrifying, especially the stronger, immortal ones. Imagine all of your fellow knights are all dead around you, and you were left to face the witch that has completely wiped the village you were protecting off the face of the earth, and the grin that that witch wore made you know your dead body won't even survive her onslaught. That would be eternal suffering in the Underworld levels of terrifying.

Jaune shuddered at the imagery and shook his head to dispel them. There was no time to think about that. He had bigger fish to cook, and a nice plate of cooked fish was all he wanted right now.

The ragged blonde rounded another corner and arrived at the front of Vale's city hall. It was huge, with pristine white painted walls, limestone pillars and a wide set of luxurious stairs adorning the front side of the building. If Jaune hadn't known, he would have thought this would have been some kind of fancy art museum.

It was clear where all the city's tax payer money went to.

Jaune ignored the lavish entrance and walked past the set of stairs, over to the large oak board by the side. The official Vale jobs board was one of the more clever ideas the city had. It was a board that the people could use in order to find and post up job offerings in the form of flyers. Those looking for jobs could just make their way to the jobs board, find a job suitable for their skills and contact the poster using the provided information on the flyers. It was quite handy, way better than having to go around the city for job and getting rejected by many in the process.

Though he didn't know why the city just left the board outside the city hall instead of having it inside. There wasn't even a guard guarding it most times. It was insanely easy to vandalize the board. You'd think they'd have at least assigned a guard to watch over the board.

…Then again, he… never really saw anyone vandalize the board. Not since he knew about the board.

Maybe that's why they don't have a guard here…

Anyway, as Jaune stopped himself from pondering too much on the city's odd workings, he scanned the board for anything. It was riddled with lots of flyers. Some were new, while some were having been posted for more than a month, judging by their heavily creased and damp look. Jaune had used this board a couple of times the past days to find a proper job, but he found no luck. They either needed some with a skill he didn't have or the pay was worse than the little he was already struggling to get from odd jobs.

And it seemed like tonight was no different.

Jaune sighed sadly. All of these job offerings, and not one was compatible with his skills. He had no experience in blacksmithing, no experience in carpentry or cooking high class meals, and he certainly had no idea what a "voluntary and legally aged snatch poker" was, nor did he want to know.

After a quick run through of the board once more, Jaune hung his head and began to walk away, beginning his way back to the old and decrepit building in downtown he had found – his home away from home for the past days. No luck tonight. Perhaps if he came back tomorrow, he could hopefully be lucky then. He just needed to be persistent and not give up, just like a real knight.

However, before he could even take one step, his eyes managed to catch something. A distinctly black-colored flyer, buried deep within every other same-looking flyer, its bottom corner swaying softly in the night wind. It looked odd and certainly out of place. Because really, what sane human being used all-black parchment? Did they just toss a roll of it into a tub of ink, pulled it out with a stick and thought, "Yup, I'm going to use this. This is certainly okay!"

No, it's not, and they should feel bad about it.

Eyeing the odd flyer with a raised brow, Jaune approached it like it was some strange animal. He pushed the papers blocking it aside and snatched it off the board, which had been kept up by some odd and smooth wood, almost shaped like the tooth of an evil monster.

Jaune read the flyer. It was… quite hard, actually. Red words written like it was by some doctor on dark black parchment wasn't exactly the clearest thing to read.

He squinted and pulled the paper close to his face. "Hiring: a servant for a high-class family living in a manor near the city of Vale. Skills required: must be good at cleaning, cooking basic meals, and other general skills in housekeeping. Will be paid… 1000 gold per week plus free accommodation at work place?!"

He pulled the flyer away in shock, his suddenly raised voice having scared a few rich folks that passed by. Though he couldn't give a rotten rat if he scared off Vale's king and queen. Because not only was he best at all the things the flyer was looking for in a servant (thanks to his sister dumping all of the house chores and responsibilities on him), the job would pay him one thousand gold per week?! Holy Underworld! That was way, way, _waaaay_ more than the average gold a house servant was usually paid. And free accommodation at his work place as well? He might as well be the richest man on Remnant right now.

At the bottom of the flyer were a bunch of other nitty gritty details, such as a note stating more details of his job would be discussed at the manor and the name of the poster, which was simply "Selene". It even had a detailed map of the manor's location, which was incredibly convenient.

Jaune looked the details over. The manor wasn't too terribly far from the city's main gate. Only a couple hours of walking at most. He could easily make the trip in one morning. There wasn't as much rough terrain as well. He just needed to follow the main road, make a turn and after that was just a couple miles of thick forest before he arrived.

The blonde re-read the flyer over and over again, trying to make sure it was actually real. With the incredibly high pay and benefits, it was just too good to be true. Too incredulous. It was possible this was just one of those cruel dreams he'd been having, where they lured him in with something good then immediately crushed his hope and soul with the realization, like a one-hundred feet tall giant stepping on a little ant.

But after a few minutes of rapid blinking and arm pinching, the flyer was still in his hands, as real as real could get. Feeling the rough parchment in his finger, Jaune could do nothing but grin like an idiot who found a chest full of gold in his yard.

It was real! This was a real thing! He couldn't help but hug the flyer as hard as he could while jumping with joy, laughing like a young child. More and more city folk that passed by became weirded out by his happiness (some even covered the eyes of their children), but he couldn't much as a single damn. He had practically won the lottery right here.

Jaune stuffed the flyer into his inner coat pocket and sped off the road, laughing like a mad man high on sugar. All of his gloom had vanished as soon as he read that flyer, and all was left was an incredibly happy Jaune making his way back to the shoddy downtown building he would soon abandon. After a good night's rest and hopefully some sweet dreams, he would pack up his stuff, get some well-deserved breakfast with the gold he had left and begin the journey towards a new chapter of his life, working an unbelievable one thousand gold per week as a servant for a high-class family that, for some reason, suspiciously lived outside the walls of Vale and in the middle of a dense forest, where no one would hear him scream if he was to be murdered so horribly.

What could possibly go wrong?

* * *

_**Everything. Everything will go wrong, Jaune.**_

_** So yeah, that's the first chapter. Looking at it now, it's more of a prologue, with the whole set up to Jaune's inevitable demise and stuff.**_

_** Anyway, here are some things I want to get out of the way:**_

_**Like I said, this is a fantasy AU, which means thing will work a bit differently. Lien is called Gold here (creative, I know), there's no aura nor semblances, no huntsmen or huntresses (which are sort of replaced by knights), and the main threat to society are mostly immortal witches. Grimm don't exist here… yet…**_

_**Some characters may be a bit OOC. Salem definitely will be a victim of OOCness, though I do try to wiki-dive for info (forgive me, for I have only reached V3). I don't know about Jaune though. I know he's a bit of socially-inept in the early volumes, but I can't exactly pinpoint if he's actually dumb when it comes to things requiring common sense. But hey! At least it could be good humor.**_

_**There will be some OCs in this story. Don't worry, there won't be any powerful, all-knowing demon lord or anything here… Actually, now that I think about it…**_

_**Updates will be slow and random since I'm lazy and this fic is more of a hobby than something serious.**_

_**Of course, like I said, it's a Jaune x Salem fic. But the first arc of this story would be less Jaune x Salem heavy and more Jaune trying to survive stuff. The romance and friendship stuff will come later (hopefully).**_

_** So yeah, that's it, I guess. Let me know what you think about this. Send me some constructive criticism – tell me what I should improve on and whatnot. Or give me ideas for scenes, I don't know. Reviews help a lot in keeping me motivated, and if you want to see more of this, leave a review, criticism or not.**_

_** Anyway, bye.**_

_** ~Christian Maulkner, Green Day fanatic and fox enthusiast**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**The room's lights were off, the faint smell of strawberry milk and fox scent lingering around. Various pieces of clothes and random knick-knacks were scattered everywhere. It was so messy, anyone with OCD would have a heart attack at the sight of the room.**_

_** Wearing a warm and snuggly orange fox hoodie, Christian continued to snore like a buzz saw at his desk. The pink-glowing screen of his laptop continuously played a screensaver of a young baby fox waggling its tail, his arms hanging limp at his sides.**_

_** "Mmm…" He muttered in his sleep, "No, that's definitely not a mushroom…"**_

_** Unfortunately, his dreams were instantly interrupted as the door to his darkened room slammed open. "Ah!" Christian yelped and jumped from his seat, falling down onto the floor with a loud thud.**_

_**Christi entered the room, wearing a pair of dark shades and a black-colored fox hoodie. "Yo, get to updating Salem's Servant, you dickless cunt." She said to Christian before pulling out a metal flask and taking a swig, whipping her unrealistically long charcoal hair away from her alcohol-flushed face.**_

_**Christian groaned. "Why do you have to disturb me from my sleep?"**_

_**She shrugged. "Hey, you wanted me to be more responsible. Well, here I am, being responsible like you said."**_

_** "Yeah, but you didn't have to scare me from a good night's sleep. You know I'm already losing so many hours of sleep."**_

_** "I… don't really fucking care. Just get to writing that shitty RWBY fanfic of yours, you fucking closet furry. I'm going to go and do… umm... things not meant to be seen by eyes under eighteen." Christi ended, turning around and heading into whatever room she was heading into.**_

_**Christian watched her exit the room, and after she was gone, he dropped his head onto the floor.**_

_** "Shoot me..."**_

_**/=/=/**_

_** With that done, hello! Welcome back to this fanfic. You know, I'm surprised people actually like this. I half-expected this fic to get as few love as R&D. **_

_** So… thanks for liking this, I guess?**_

_** Anyway, onto one other thing. There was a certain guest review on here that told me that RT's been hinting at Jaune being related/a descendant of Salem in V6 (thanks for that spoiler, by the way. Love you. Really appreciate it). **_

_** I won't be implementing that stuff onto here, because one: it'd complicate things further, and two: ship would be impossible if that were a thing.**_

_** So without further ado, here's chappy mappy slappy tappy clappy schlappy two.**_

* * *

Salem's Servant: Chapter 2

* * *

Dried out leaves and sticks crinkled and crumpled under his brown leather boots. The familiar smell of the forest wafted through the air as soft winds flew on by from above. Thankfully, it wasn't as cold as the night before, so Jaune had no worries about staying warm. Though it didn't mean it was likely it would stay that way for long, nor did it mean it was warm enough to commend not wearing or bringing a coat. After all, it was better to be safe than sorry.

Jaune continued to traverse through the dense trees, his eyes shifting between where he was going and the small map on the flyer in his hands, but still sharp for anything standing out or potentially dangerous. Hours had passed since he had started the trek towards the manor – towards his hopefully new job.

And by hours, he meant a whole half-a-morning and an entire afternoon worth of hours.

He had woken up first thing in the morning, right as the sun was blaring its wake up call to all of Remnant. He just couldn't wait for today. The amount of tossing and turning and thinking about his answers to the questions his new employers would inevitably give was enough to keep him awake at night in both excitement and anxiety. It left him a bit drowsy in the morning, sure, but the thrill that the day had finally come had been enough to kick him into full gear like a pot of the finest coffee in the city.

And so, after packing up the little stuff he had and saying goodbye to the decrepit building he once called a crappy home, he had finally left his short bum life and begun his trip to the manor!

…Right before he got some breakfast. As some had said, a man with a hungry stomach was a man with a… well, a hungry stomach. He actually had no idea if there was saying like that. But basically, Jaune was starving, and there was no way he was going to go on a long walk with no food in his belly. He'd probably die not far from the city's main gate otherwise, and if he indeed survived without a meal, then he would for sure not be able to focus his meeting with his employers.

So after spending a few gold he had on some warm buttered bread and a glass of refreshing milk, he had finally set out on his journey to his hopefully new job!

…Right after he got a bath, realizing he absolutely smelled. There was no way he was going to show up at the manor smelling and looking like a popular tavern after a Friday night. The family would probably mistake him for some wild animal and beat him with a broomstick until he ran away.

And he definitely did not want to experience something like for the fourth time in his life.

And so, after taking a trip to the nearest bathhouse (which was thankfully cheap), he finally, _finally_ made his way to the threshold of Vale's main gate, and after taking a deep breath that must have made the nearby guards roll their eyes at him (not that he actually noticed), Jaune took his first step and set off into the journey leading to a new chapter of his life.

And what a journey it was.

A long, tiring, outstandingly confusing journey.

He must have miscalculated the distance it took to reach the branching path that supposedly led to the manor because mother of all that was holy was the main road as long as Remnant's history books combined. It felt like he had just traveled from the city all the way to the farthest end of Vacuo. There was no doubting blisters had already riddled his poor, aching feet.

Sure, he could have asked for a ride from the many horse riders that passed by, but his brain hadn't suggested the thought before the branching path was already in sight, making the idea totally worthless.

Unfortunately, the dirt path that supposedly led straight to the manor suffered the same miscalculated farness as the main road. At first, Jaune didn't really mind the long walk. Walking through a quiet and peaceful forest where there's nothing but the sounds of birds chirping and the faint rustling of the trees was somewhat of a pastime of his. He could probably do it all day if he wanted to. Just him and nature, existing in serenity…

Well, it was just like that, right before nature's serenity started to slowly devolve into nature's nightmare. He couldn't pinpoint when it started, but after a while of walking and rewinding today's unfortunate events, he noticed trees started to lose their leaves, calming sounds starting fading into non-existence, and the overall atmosphere became a whole lot creepier the further he went down the path, especially with how dusk started to settle in. It was like a dream slowly transforming into some horrific nightmare. Sanity deteriorating into insanity.

Most people would have probably stopped and turned back by now. He couldn't blame them. A smart person would want to run at the first sign of impending danger.

But Jaune was not a smart person – he was a determined one.

Despite it frightening him and kicking his flight response into action, being alone and defenseless in a creepy forest wasn't going to stop him from getting that sweet one thousand gold per week salary.

And so he trudged on, a bit scared out of his socks but dead-set nonetheless.

Which now led him to here… still walking…

Jaune squinted his eyes and tried his best to look through the dark, thick trees. It was hard though. The lantern he brought with him could only manage to light a few feet in front of him. It was a cheap one he got from a retired traveler who had been kind enough to give it to him for a much lower price. But it was broken to all hell, and the numerous cracks on the glass made the flame flicker a lot and almost die out at a few points. He may as well be carrying a single match with how weak the flame was.

But Jaune wouldn't let that stop him, even if it resulted in the creepiness factor of the forest to shoot all the way up to the moon.

The blonde checked the small map again. He had been walking along this dirt path for hours now. He must be getting near, right? After all, he had been following the map right down to the little curves and skews. Surely, he must be.

Because if after all this time he had been nothing but completely lost, having taken the wrong path or something, then by gods, somebody jump out of a bush and stab him in the back of his neck now.

Actually, no. Don't do that.

Jaune sighed and retired the flyer into his coat pocket, continuing down the dim path.

_I wonder what the manor looks like…_ He wondered in his head. Growing up in Ansel, he had never really seen any grand and large houses as a kid, at least real ones. The closest to a manor he could get was the old large orphanage somewhere in town, but even then it was quite standard. Vale didn't help much either. Sure he would wander through the richer areas of the city during his days there as a young, struggling homeless man, but they were all just fancy businesses and inns – not a whole of residential housing around those parts.

_Hmm... Maybe it could be like that one manor in that children's book I saw once. _His mind started to form the picture in his head. It was a wide and large one. Pristine limestone walls and high, bronze-framed windows. A wide staircase leading to the grand entrance, and a large garden full of colorful flowers that would make florists faint in joy and euphoria.

_ Or maybe it could look like that old one in that other book. _Four stories of quaint, cobblestone walls and white-framed square windows that looked as old as a dying grandmother but still retained its homey feeling. A beaten path cutting through neatly cut plains of grass leading towards the front double doors, with perfectly trimmed hedges flanking both sides. And on top of the roof was a closed gazebo, clearly intended to hold any rooftop activities.

Jaune continued to ponder on the looks as more possibilities popped in his head. Some were more simple in design, while some were grander and even a bit bizarre and unrealistic. To be frank, he wouldn't mind having a manor of his own. Nothing too grand; just something simple and able to make him feel right at home. Gods, it would be nice sitting in front of a fireplace while sipping a cup of hot, delicious in the middle of a cold, winter ni–

"Ow!" Jaune cried out, bumping his forehead into something metallic. It looked like he may have pondered a bit too much, for he was too busy in dreamland to notice the large, black metal gate right in front him, clear as day, and walked right into it like the bumbling fool that he was.

Wincing at the pain, Jaune nursed his forehead, now noticing the metal gate in front of him, long stretches of tall, worn out brick walls at either side of it. It looked like something straight out of a horror story. Sharp top ends on the bars, a dark gothic design, and a creepy symbol he couldn't make out right between the two sides of the gates that would send the weak-minded straight on home at a glimpse. The fact that the flickering light of his lantern gave the gate an ominous look to it didn't help much either.

Jaune gulped nervously at the sight, but he didn't let the idea of instantly running away get to him. He pulled out the flyer from his coat and checked the map, comparing his darkened surroundings. Sure enough, this was the end of the path.

He brought his head forward and tried to see beyond the gate, but all he could gather that it was pitch black as a cold-blooded murderer's soul. He tried directing his lantern's light towards the dark, but the failed as well. The only way he could make anything out was if he…

…went inside.

Jaune gulped at the idea. Trespassing onto a stranger's property without proper permission was bad enough on his moral code, let alone trespassing onto a stranger's property that looked like something straight out of a horror tale people would spread around, and could likely even get himself murdered if he stepped one foot into the place.

A large part of his mind screamed that this was a bad idea and that he should bail and never come back to this spine-chilling place. His body was just itching to follow his instincts, feeling his feet fidget slightly, already wanting to take a step back and run.

But he ignored his instincts and steeled himself, planting his feet firmly on the ground. He had come this far in his travels and had endured many blisters and aching feet. Many hours of walking and praying to the gods he was nearing the manor led him to this moment. No way was he going to waste all of that effort away now and jump ship, no matter how much his instincts would like to do otherwise.

_Be brave, Jaune. You've made it this far; there's no turning back. You are going to open this gate and you are going to walk straight on in there. Into the dark… creepy… darkness… that probably has some crazed murderer hiding in the shadows… _Jaune shook his head, dispelling the pessimistic thoughts. _No, be brave! You can do this, Jaune. You're going to go in there, get that house servant job and you're going to get that one thousand gold per week salary! Yeah! Gold! Money! Not being a homeless bum!_

Filled up to his eyeballs in tenacity, Jaune took a deep breath and grabbed a bar on one of the gates, pushing it open as it made a horrible screeching noise that instantly made him want to cover his ears.

At least it wasn't locked. He really didn't want to put in the effort of scaling and climbing over the walls, not with his feet practically killing him and making him vulnerable and off his guard if he did so.

After closing the gate and listening to the god awful screeching noise once more, Jaune began making his way forward. Fortunately, a convenient gravel path followed right after the gate, so at least he didn't have to wander aimlessly in the dark in search of this manor.

Jaune trod on forward down the path, stretching his lantern ahead to try to get a somewhat better view of where he was going. It was incredibly silent here. Like dead silent. Save for the crunching of rocks beneath his boots as he walked, every other sound that would have accompanied this creepy place was absent. There were no distant caws of crows, no soft rustles of trees (not that it was actually possible for leafless trees to make rustling noises), not even small crickets chirping away. Just complete, dead silence.

It was a bit ironic. Most nights, Jaune would have killed for a silent night like this. His little sisters always liked to stay up most nights. But now that he was here alone, he wanted nothing more than noise all around him to wade away the fear and eeriness of this place.

As Jaune continued following the path to gods know where, he tried to pierce his eyes through the darkness to see if there was anything in the distance. Much to his chagrin and rapidly growing claustrophobia, he could barely see anything past a few feet. The darkness was just too thick. It was as if someone had taken some dense fog, put it all around him and painted them black. There weren't even any stars nor the bright moon he was familiar with up in the sky – just pure black. He wasn't even sure if he was even looking at the sk–

Jaune jumped in fear and stopped to a halt, frantically whipping his body around. Something made a noise from far behind him. The sudden sound was softened by the distance, but it sounded like something had fallen. Like an echo of a hammer falling onto a pile of nails and scrap metal.

"H-Hello…?" He quietly called out. The blonde scanned the darkness for anything that could jump at him, scared out of his very mind. His shaky hands rattled his lantern, his heart was beating fast and hard, and he could barely keep his breathing under control. He was completely alone. Sure he was, r-right…? It was dead silent; there was no way someone could be in here with him right now. He surely would have heard something before.

Frightful, blue eyes scanned the darkness a few more times. Minutes passed by, and after seeing and hearing nothing more, Jaune gradually relaxed before letting out a small sigh in relief. He wiped the sweat off his forehead with a shaky hand. He could feel his heart slowing down.

_ Probably just my mind… well, hopefully…_ After a few deep breaths to calm himself down, Jaune regained his fragile composure and moved on forward, a bit more relaxed but still had his guard up in case something else happened.

It took a couple more minutes, but after a while, the gravel path finally diverged, surrounding an old and crumbling fountain in a giant roundabout, which he almost ran into if not for the small light from his lantern. It was certainly something that a rich family would have, what with the intricate designs and engraving and the marble statues of creatures and animals sitting atop the fountain.

One thing that boggled him though was the look of pure abandonment.

It looked like it hadn't been touched by another human for years. There were vines growing everywhere, crawling up the sides from the ground and even dipping into the waterless pit itself. The marble and stone were old and falling to ruin. Looking down, the pit that would have contained clear water now held nothing but old mold, leaves and twigs. There were a couple of gold coins down there he could spot, but they were so dirty and old that he doubted he could even use them as currency anymore.

_The family must have forgotten this fountain ever existed, because wow, this is as filthy as Emerald's mind._ Jaune thought, his mind going back to the numerous times his older sister happily shared inappropriate jokes at the dinner table. He still had no idea how she got away doing that without even a single warning.

He continued to eye the muck and dirt. It was strange. This family was rich enough to afford paying a servant one thousand gold a week, right? Surely, they must have had _some_ other servants that were dedicated to cleaning the fountain.

_Hmm… _He furrowed his eyebrows in thought. Now that he thought about it, it was quite strange how a rich family would dip so low from their high social status as to pin up a barely readable flyer at Vale's official job board looking for a house servant, when they could just easily find someone reputable and skilled enough hailing from the higher class parts of the city and not just some random guy off the street. And judging from the details on the flyer, they were more than rich enough to afford someone like that.

So… why the flyer?

Jaune pondered at the oddness of it all for one moment, feeling that something was up with this so-called "high-class family". Something awfully suspicious. As if… this family wasn't rich at all… or that this family… never even existed in the first place…

"Hmm… strange…" Jaune muttered, but then shrugged his shoulders, "Oh well, that's a mystery I'll cross when I get there. Not like it'll brutally murder me and dump my body somewhere where no one could find me or anything."

Jaune moved onwards, forgetting the little mystery he had come up in his head and continuing on to get his new job.

It wasn't long until the path eventually ended, which then led up to the front of the supposed manor.

_Finally, I'm here. _Jaune happily thought, almost racing up the steps towards the grand double doors. He couldn't really see much of the outside manor due to the thick darkness and low light, but he could tell the manor itself wasn't in good shape either. Like the fountain, vines practically riddled the broken down brick walls like the Mistrali Dark Flu. Years old mold (he had no idea how old they were, but they might as well be) grew in between the nooks and crannies of every brick, and what were probably once clear and spotless windows at one point were now shattered and broken into practically nothing.

This manor was more fit to be a haunted house for people to drum up tales and rumors than an actual home.

And it sure didn't help quell Jaune's fear one bit.

Ignoring the haunting feeling of the place, Jaune continued onwards towards the large, dark oak doors. As expected, they were broken and worn down like everything else around him. But was weird to him were the locks on the doors – or rather, lack thereof. It looked like the locks and doorknobs were ripped straight out of their places, leaving nothing but moldy spots of missing wood. It was as if someone had kicked the locked doors open once – someone like a house burglar.

Or a giant, blood-thirsty monster spawned from the depths of the Underworld.

Dispelling the horrific images popping up in his head that suggested even more horrific stuff, Jaune furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. He could get behind the out-of-control vines and the overall broken down look of the manor making some sense. Perhaps these people liked having their home look quaint and old. He could see the charm of it. But even then, surely they couldn't just leave a broken door like this, especially if it's the main entrance into the manor. Being rich, you'd think the family would be the least bit of concerned about what their visitors and guests thought of their home.

_Maybe this family just __**really**__ likes broken stuff._ Jaune thought and left it at that. He wasn't going to judge a family's taste in aesthetics and design choices, not when he wasn't swimming in gold himself and practically had no right to form an opinion on them.

He lightly pushed one lock-busted door, nudging it open just enough to where he could see inside. As expected from an ominous manor, it was incredibly dark.. The only thing he could see was the blanket of dust covering the red, lavish carpet leading from the main entrance to the unknown – everything else was shrouded in black.

Jaune gulped, a bead of sweat running down his temple. _Okay… __**waaay**__ darker than I wanted it to be. But that's okay. Just keep calm and pretend that there isn't some guy with a dagger or horrible monster roaming around in there and you'll be fine… yeah… totally fine…_

After a few tries of trying to peer through the darkness, Jaune cleared his throat. "H-Hello…?' He called out, his voice coming out much squeakier than he would have liked.

He waited for an answer – a friendly "Oh, hello!" or "Come in!" that would tell him someone sane was in there. But nothing came up. All he got was more deafening silence. He tried again, this time asking if anyone was there. His voice echoed eerily around inside, but once again, no response came.

_Dammit._ Looks like he was going to have to head inside himself – right into the dark and (he hoped to the gods) empty manor where he could barely see a thing.

"Here goes…" He slowly pushed the door open, cringing as it made a creaking sound so loud and drawn out there was no way no one inside the manor wouldn't have heard that. He was pretty sure even a deaf person would have heard it.

Taking a hesitant step inside and leaving the door open in case there _was_ some guy with a dagger in here with him, Jaune reached his lantern out, trying to light more of the area in front of him. Thankfully, it seemed that the manor hadn't suffered the same curse-like eternal darkness as the yard outside and he could actually see more than a few feet. The room seemed to be some kind of parlor. Fancy but worn and old sofas and tea tables were grouped up at the center of the room, dust having already made its nigh permanent home upon them. To the side of the rooms, along with some antique paintings so torn up they could barely be considered paintings at all, were a couple of bookshelves and display cases respectively containing a few dusted books, fancy plates and other collectibles.

He assumed the expensive-looking stuff were just replicas. After all, you would have to be the dumbest person on Remnant to happily display real, precious items right by the entrance of your home.

Jaune began proceeding to the center of the room. As he did, he took notice of the two wide staircases hugging the side walls, leading up to an interior balcony stretching from side to side, overlooking the entire parlor. There was a large set of opened doors right at the center of the wall by the balcony, and there were two corridors leading off to the sides.

If fancy couldn't describe what he was seeing, then he didn't know what would.

Coming down from his awe, he walked up to the oak table at the center of a bunch of sofas. Books were scattered haphazardly across the tabletop, though their mucky covers were so incomprehensible, it was impossible to know what type they were. Old parchment also covered the table, and some took the floor as their new home for gods know how long. None of them had any writing. There was also a vase at the center, but the flowers it held were so decayed, Jaune was a bit surprised they hadn't turned into complete dust by now.

"Wow, these are old as Remnant itself…" He muttered to himself, poking a book. He cringed when the muck stuck to his finger, shaking it off and wiping his finger on a nearby sofa. "Okay, either this family just _really, reeeeaaally, _likes old and broken stuff, or… something happened…"

More and more thoughts piled into Jaune's mind, some of which sent blizzards down his spine at the implications. He tried to believe those ones weren't possible – he was afraid enough standing here alone as it is. But it was practically impossible to ignore them. Everything was so old, dusty and run down here that it was unlikely this 'family' was anything but fine. He may not be rich, but he knew not a single rich person on Remnant would leave their humble abode this decrepit.

Hell, no one would, regardless of financial status. Especially when they worked so hard to get it.

Which… could only lead to one thing…

"All these old, abandoned things, the run-down manor, and the fact no one is here… There… is no family…" He muttered, eyes widening in way-too-belated realization.

His body went stiff and his hands shook in fear. If what he thought was true in every word, then the job offer was nothing but a ruse. A bait to lure in unsuspecting idiots looking for an easy, high-paying job into a trap.

And Jaune had taken the bait without a single thought.

The blonde's body refused to move, stuck in his place like a frozen statue. Even if he knew he was (hopefully) alone, he couldn't help but feel that after realizing his predicament, someone was now watching him closely. Like a predator watching its prey from the shadows, waiting for it to move so they could jump at him.

Feeling himself starting to hyperventilate, Jaune glanced back at the entrance behind him. It was still there, open and easy to run through. His instincts screamed to turn on his heel and run as fast as he could, blaring like dozens of warning bells ringing at once. If he just kept running and following the path back to the gate, he could hopefully make it out of here before something inevitably gave chase and caught up to him. That something, he didn't know. He didn't _want_ to know.

Agreeing with his instincts one-hundred and ten percent, Jaune made to turn and run, only to stop halfway when his ears picked up something coming from the further inside the manor. He turned his head back to the darkness, and it was then he heard it again.

"Help…"

The voice was soft and distant, and though it sounded croaky and nothing like it, there was no doubting it was coming from a little girl, somewhere within the same floor. It echoed softly through the empty parlor once more, and this time Jaune could hear faint sobbing joining her voice.

He stared at the darkness as another utter for help resonated, his face contorting in inner conflict. He contemplated whether he should follow his previous instincts or risk his life trying to find this helpless girl. The exit was right behind him. All he needed to do was to turn on his heel and run away, and this would be all over.

But hearing that distant cry for help, his inner knight wanted to take a blind leap and find her. To help her and take her away from this place – just like a knight would.

It was a tough choice. There was a chance that the 'little girl' was also some trap that could cost him his life. One where had no way to escape from. Considering where he was, it was an obvious one, and only a brain dead fool would fall for it.

But then again, there was a small sliver of a chance that whoever that was indeed needed help. A helpless, defenseless little girl who had fallen into the same trap as him, and desperately wanted nothing more than to escape and run. And if he were to just ignore her and run away, there was no doubting he would be carrying the guilt of indirectly causing the death of a little girl for the rest of his life. He was already carrying the burden of being a rejected huntsman and a dumb idiot; he didn't need any more guilt and burden in his life.

After a few more seconds of contemplation, Jaune eventually sighed. "Dammit…"

Bolstering himself up, he disregarded his only way of escape behind him and ventured further into the tenebrous manor, the otherwise overwhelming guilt and his moral code having chosen his course of action for him. He didn't care if he wasn't an official knight. It wasn't like a knight to leave a helpless person in this wicked place, where dying was as easy as blinking.

And if his fate was nothing but the end for him, then so be it. At least he'd know he died trying to help someone.

He reached his lantern into the dimness as he reached a side corridor. It was as run down and abandoned as the parlor was, if not even more so. Dust, cobwebs, stains of unknown substances and mold practically covered everything his eyes could lay themselves on. The wooden floor creaked ominously with every step he took, adding more to the creepiness than he liked. There were several doors that he passed by and ignored, all dilapidated like his gradually waning courage. He didn't know where they lead to, and he sure would like to not find out.

With the amount of fear running through his veins, he wasn't sure he would be able to keep his stomach in check after seeing something so horrible.

As he turned another corner, the calls for help were getting louder and clearer, and he pinpointed to somewhere down the corridor. It was long, dark and ominous, his lantern's slowly waning light only reaching so far before dark shadows took over. He gulped, and a bead of sweat ran down his temple as he trudged forward, trying his best to ignore and endure the raging winter racing down his spine.

The corridor was just like every other one in the manor – ramshackle and unfit for a home. Only this time he couldn't shake off this feeling of paranoia as he fearfully scuffed as fast as he could. It was like someone was watching him from somewhere, but every time his paranoia got to him and he stopped to look, there was nothing there. It scared him to the bone, and he tried his best not to break down and have a panic attack.

He eventually made it though, right in front of a closed off door at the end of the corridor. If it were possible to be even more decrepit than anything else in this godforsaken manor, then this door definitely proved it. It smelled like a dead body after a week of being left in a pile of pig excrement – absolutely atrocious. Jaune was surprised he hadn't puked right then and there.

He wanted nothing but to leave right now, but as the little girl's voice continued to emanate from behind the door, his knightly instincts heavily discouraged him so.

Putting an arm over his nose to ineffectively block off the smell, Jaune reached out and turned the door knob, slowly pushing it open. As expected, it was dark and he could barely see anything inside. The darkness seemed even denser than here in the corridor if that were possible.

He slowly pushed the door open with a drawn out creak and stepped inside, leaving the door open as a form of escape. The room was fairly sized and looked like it was some form of storage room at some point. Barrels and crates stacked on top of one another filled the room like the horrid stench lingering all around him. Most of them were empty, but there were some barrels that contained the moldy remains of apples and oranges and the like. Jaune could only frown at the sight of all this wasted food. He would have probably packed some up if they weren't practically poisonous at this point.

And if this creepy room didn't make him want to turn tail every second.

He continued further into the room, making his way past numerous crates and barrels. They were so dense and packed together that he could barely see one end of the room, but judging by the girl's gradually loudening voice as he quickly wandered through, he knew he was getting closer.

He stepped aside past some barrels, and it was then he spotted her. The little girl he had possibly risked his life to find and save her. Her small, bony body, covered by a large, torn up tunic, was burrowed into a dingy corner, her thin arms hugging her mucky and bruised legs up to her chest. Her dark, slovenly hair was riddled with dirt and rubble, and her skin was pale and weak-looking. He could easily have mistaken her for a ghost.

Staring at the sobbing girl, Jaune took a deep breath, ignoring all the warning signs in his head. He made it this far to try and help her. She was real and in clear need of help, and he wasn't going to back out on her.

It wouldn't be knightly of him to do so.

"Um… h-hello…?" He called out to her, unconsciously hiding behind the barrels.

He waited for some kind of response from the little girl, but all he got was more sobbing. She didn't even flinch a little at his call.

Feeling antsier by the second, Jaune called out to her again, a little louder this time. "H-Hello…? Are you…" He gulped, "Are you o-okay…?"

_She's clearly not, you dummy. Look at her!_ The voice in his mind told him, but he ignored it.

Despite his louder voice, he got no response from her. Just the same sobbing and crying and 'help…' he had heard for the past few minutes.

Jaune inwardly groaned, knowing what he had to do now. _Why must you make this harder for me, mysterious, helpless girl?_

He reluctantly took a slow step towards her, fearing that even the footsteps of an ant would scare her or something. Once his foot rested on the floor without a creak, he took another slow step. Then another, and then another, until he finally made to the little girl's feet.

He carefully got down on his knee and scrutinized her. She seemed even more filthy now that he was close, and looking down past the holes of her tunic (without ill intentions, mind you), he noticed just how thin her stomach was. He couldn't see her face though – it was completely obstructed by her messy hair.

Jaune couldn't help but frown at the sight. Poor girl. She must have been here for days without food.

He hunched forward and whispered, "H-Hey… are you okay…?"

He waited for a moment. But once again, she gave nothing except more sobs and soft calls for help. The blonde furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. He was already so close. Surely she must have heard that.

He whispered to her once again, but just like every other try, she gave nothing. Had something happened to her ears that made it hard for her to hear? Perhaps the deafening silence of the manor actually made her go deaf. Jaune had no idea. He wasn't an expert when it came to ears, and it was the only plausible theory he could come up with.

Either way, deaf or not, he needed to help this girl. And it looked like talking to her was out the window.

He looked down at his hand, and then at the crying girl, gulping at the thought of getting his hand chopped off by just laying a finger on her. He quickly dispelled them though. It was rude of him to think this little girl could be anything dangerous. Just one look at her would convince someone she was the most innocent person in the entire land of Remnant, and definitely wouldn't hurt a person by a poke on their arm.

Completely ignoring the risk on his very life, Jaune reached out his hand to tap her knee.

But just like with all previous attempts to get her attention, she was completely non-responsive.

Seeing this, he tapped her again and again. "Hey… Hello…?"

Nothing. Jaune furrowed his eyebrows. He could feel the light irritation seeping out through his features, but he controlled them and calmed himself down. He shouldn't be frustrated at such a clearly helpless girl.

He then resorted to shaking her leg, thinking it would finally get her to respond. But as he placed his hand on her knee, his breath hitched when he felt the biting coldness of her skin, and he instantly brought his hand away. It had been like touching cold, icy steel. Like a bar of iron left out to frost in a raging Atlesian snowstorm for days on end.

He reached out his hand again, this time placing it on one of her arms. Sure enough, it was extremely cold, possibly even colder than her leg. The girl did nothing meanwhile. She probably couldn't even feel his hand. Her unresponsiveness and stillness, coupled with her cold skin and starving look, made her seem like a soulless husk.

…Kind of like a dead person.

Jaune's eyes widened, the vibrations of his shaky hand resonating onto the girl's arm. Fear continued to build up inside of him as he brought his eyes up to her obstructed face. All the while, the girl was still sobbing quietly. Reluctantly, he reached his other hand to her face. Slowly, he pushed her grimy hair aside, his breath quickening to a galloping horse's pace.

Soon enough, he completely brought her hair away. Her face now as clear as a cloudless sky, Jaune could only stare at it in utter horror for what felt like forever, before he finally gasped and quickly jumped back, crawling away until his back hit a crate.

The blonde heaved and panted in terror as the little girl slowly fell onto the floor on her side, her black, soulless eyes staring right at him past strands of her grimy hair. Her mouth was agape like a corpse, but all her teeth were missing, and a mysterious black goo slowly trickled down her gray, cold chin.

Jaune could only stare at the girl's soulless body with shaky eyes. She was dead. That girl was dead. He had never been so close to a cold, dead body before. The thought of having touched a little girl's dead, rotting body made him want to hurl right then and there.

The fact that she still wept and sob with that unmoving mouth of hers didn't help at all.

He wanted to run. No, he _needed _to run. Away from that thing, away from this wicked, forsaken place. It was clear she had been dead for a long time. There was no point in staying here any longer.

He moved to get up onto his feet, but before he could start running the hell away from here, he felt something drip onto the back of his hand. The sound echoed emptily throughout the room. He froze, his body locking up into place. His eyes slowly looked down onto his hand.

A drip of the same black goo that had trickled from the girl's mouth now laid on his hand. It was deathly cold, and it smelled just like the horrid smell emanating around him.

Another drop of goo dripped onto the spot right next to the previous one. And then another dripped onto the floor by his hand. Feeling the horror and panic rising up to his eyes, Jaune slowly raised his head and brought his eyes up to the ceiling.

Up there, clinging to the ceiling with mangled arms and smothered in the same black goo, was a horrific creature of nightmares. Blood red eyes stared down at him, and even more thick goo oozed from its horribly deformed mouth, its jagged, pitch-black teeth sharp as daggers. Not even a full grown elephant could survive that monstrosity of a mouth.

_Run._ His mind told him, but Jaune couldn't move. His body was locked up, stiff as a board from the dread and terror that filled his entire body. The creature slowly lowered from the ceiling, jagged breathing wafting through the horrible teeth of his mouth. All the while those red eyes were locked right on him.

_Run…_ The creature lowered a horribly grotesque and long-clawed leg onto the floor. Stepping into the light, he could see the creature took the form of a wolf of some kind, with its snout and the wolf-like ears on its head.

A nightmarish, horribly mangled wolf with teeth fit for a bloodthirsty shark.

He continued to stare fearfully as the wolf-like amalgamation of horror slowly brought its muzzle up to his face, its cold, putrid breath puffing onto his nose as it smelled him.

_Jaune, run!_

It pulled back away from him. A gradually loudening growl escaped its mouth at it began staring at him in anger.

_Jaune, for the love of the gods, run!_

The creature opened its horrifying mouth, its growl vibrating throughout its body.

_JAUNE, RUN, GODDAMMIT!_

"RUNNING!" He yelped and jumped out of the way as the creature lunged it mouth towards him, thankfully missing and sinking its teeth into the crate that had been behind him. Forgetting about the dead girl and all sense of bravery, Jaune shot up to his feet, picked up his lantern and ran as fast as he could to the door, stepping aside and dodging crate and barrels.

He shot through the doorway (thank gods he left it open) and quickly slammed it closed before sprinting down the corridor. _Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap! _His lantern's light flickered wildly as he ran for his life, blazing past every other door there was. The adrenaline and fear completely nulled the fatigue that had plagued his legs from the long journey before, the only thing blaring in his mind was getting the hell out of here.

Behind him, he could hear the slams and loud thuds of the creature trying to burst the door open. It only made him push his legs even more. He reached the corner where he had turned before and drifted around it, his boots kicking up dust. He was about to continue his escape when he caught a glimpse of an explosion of wood back down the corridor, followed by the creature sliding into view and hitting the opposite wall before beginning to chase him down.

_Crap!_ Jaune pushed himself off the wall, giving him a small boost as he ran down the corridor once again. Mold and muck blurred past him as his booted feet thudded repeatedly on the floor. He could hear the growls and rapid footsteps of the nightmarish monster behind him. He would look behind time and time, only to notice how close the monster was before whipping his back and quickening his pace.

Eventually, Jaune slid his way into the parlor, out of breath but still adamant to escape. He could still see the doors were open as he had left it. Thank the gods he wasn't dumb enough to shut them.

Hearing the monster's fleeting steps, he looked back to where he came from, and his eyes widened when he saw the monster quickly gaining distance.

Jaune resumed his escape once more, jumping and vaulting over the sofas. As he tried to jump over one though, his foot was caught and it made him face plant onto the dusty floor.

"Ah! Damn!" He said as the pain from his now twisted ankle shot throughout his leg. He turned his body and clutched his broken foot, wincing as it stung from his touch. The monster's footsteps continued to get louder and louder though, and Jaune could only ignore the pain for right now. There was no time to take care of his body. He needed to escape _now._

He pushed himself off the floor and onto his feet, trying his best to ignore his twisted ankle. The footsteps were nearing, and Jaune quickly limped his way towards the doors. He fell once more onto the floor when he put too much weight onto his broken ankle, but he endured the pain again and got back up.

Slowly but surely, he limped and hopped his way to his escape. The door got nearer and nearer. He could already smell the scent of the peaceful forest that would bring him calm. The hustle and bustle of the city that would make him know he was okay. Just a little more, and he's out of he–

But before he could get to the doors, he was quickly stopped in his tracks when a large wooden bookshelf crashed right onto the floor, blocking him from his escape. Jaune jumped back to avoid getting crushed by the heavy piece of furniture, sending him falling down onto his bottom. He coughed and tried to wave the dust away from his face. Once it has settled though, he could only stare in heightened despair at the now destroyed bookshelf right in front of him, rope twisting around its broken body as it blocked his only known means of evasion.

"Oh no…"

Jaune jumped when a growl emanated behind him. He turned around and saw the wolf-like monster at the other end of the lobby, slowly stalking its way towards him. Its blood red eyes continued to glare at him – it was clear what its intentions with him were.

He crawled away from his chaser until his back hit the mangled bookshelf behind him. He grabbed a protruding piece of wood and pulled himself up, leaning back onto the bookshelf.

He tried to catch his breath as Death-on-Remnant slowly made its way towards him. The fatigue from all that running was slowly catching up to him, mixing in with the pain of his twisted ankle to create an even more unbearable experience.

_Goddammit. _He huffed out a breath. _Okay, Jaune. Don't worry, you're not going to die. Even though it's obvious you are. You just need a new escape route._

Blue eyes began frantically searching the lobby for a way out. He tried not to freak out as the monster slowly closed in on him. _Okay. Wow, my ankle hurts. Alright, past the source of next week's nightmares is out of the window, especially with this broken ankle. Upstairs would mean I probably would have to jump down from a roof. That's a no. I can't reach that window up there. Can't reach that brick hanging and swinging above me either. Can't_– _ Wait, brick?_

The last thing he heard was a loud thud, and lots and lots of pain on his face.

/=/=/

Her heels clicked and clacked upon the wooden floor, her dark-colored robe swaying softly in the little bit of flowing air as she made her way around the corner. She reached the stairs and made her way down with slow grace, all the while eyeing the scene near the entrance with a faint grin.

She walked past a fallen sofa and made her way towards the pile of broken wood of what was once a bookshelf. She frowned at the sight. She had hoped she didn't need to use that trick on her victim. Looks like that's one more thing she needed to get cleaned up.

Oh well, whatever. She didn't really use that bookshelf anyway. Plus, there was a much more important thing she had to deal with right now.

Seeing her lovely pet still glaring and growling, she laid a veiny hand upon his goo-covered back. "That's enough, Tenebris. You did splendidly today." She said, smiling as she patted his warm, gooey fur.

At his master's touch, Tenebris' anger vanished and he sat down upon the carpeted floor, happily rumbling as he felt his master's soothing pats.

Although she would have loved to spend some more time with her pet, she had other things to do. So she gave one last pat on his head and sent him off. He whined at being dismissed, but obeyed nonetheless, walking back further into the manor and disappearing past a corner, leaving a trail of black goo along the way.

As she turned back to the matter at hand, a black-feathered owl slowly descended from above down to face level, carrying a long, green snake in its talons.

The owl's flapping wings kept them both in the air. "So, are we done?" The green snake asked, somehow adopting a gentlemanly accent.

She nodded. "Yes, you have done well. You will have your reward soon."

"Let's hope you keep your promise this time." The owl uttered in a slightly lazy voice, its large amber eyes half-lidding.

"Don't worry, you will. Now off with you! I have important business to take care of!" She shooed them away with her veiny hands. She watched as they flew away, soaring up to the second floor and disappearing past a corner.

With that out of the way, she turned back to her business, looking down at the unconscious boy that now laid at her feet. A shattered lantern laid near the boy's hand, and the brick the owl and snake had used also laid near his head, droplets of blood dotted about its surface. His gold-like hair was all but disheveled and riddled with dust and splinters, and his poor excuse for clothes were a bit ruined and torn up, likely from his rather pathetic attempt at escaping. Looking down at his feet, his ankle was twisted and out of its socket. His face wasn't doing any better as blood slowly flowed down from his broken nose, cuts, bruises and a visibly large red mark covering just about everything.

She frowned at the boy's injuries. _Great__, it looks like I'll have to brew up some more healing potions for that._ It's been a while since she had to make a single bottle of that wretched stuff. It always burned whenever a drop managed to land her pale skin. She had come to despise that stuff the more she made them.

_Oh well, whatever. A little sacrifice for such a grand reward isn't too bad._ She thought as she took a knee, placing her hand upon his mangled up face. She slowly caressed his bruised and cut cheek with her thumb. It was calloused as she had expected, but there was still some smoothness under all those injuries.

She smirked. _Yes… a grand reward indeed…_

* * *

_**Well, Jaune, my boy. You fucked up now, you big, dumb idiot.**_

_** Anyway, second chapter done. Numerous times, I had to suppress my urge to play video games instead of working on this (Hollow Knight is so good, like holy crap).**_

_** Hooray for procrastination!**_

_** Well, I'm gonna go pass out and die. Remember to review and stuff. It helps me remember people care about this story. **_

_**Thanks for reading, mega epic g4m3r! *dab noises***_

_** ~Christian Maulkner, sleep deprivation expert**_


	3. Chapter 3

** Do you know what I hate? Watcher Knights. They're literally one of the worst bosses in Hollow Knight. The fight is all about how lucky you are that they don't screw you over by having one bouncing everywhere while the other does his rolly thing on the floor, making it nigh impossible to dodge. It's stupid; RNG in boss fights is a stupid idea. At least with the Mantis Lords, they have set, specific moves you can react quickly enough and dodge. **

** God, I hate the Watcher Knights so much.**

** …Wait what? This isn't a reddit post complaining about the Watcher Knights? Oh goddammit.**

** Anyway, since I'm still here, here's Chapter 3. Although it's like… what, at least 9,500 words? I feel like there isn't much going on in this one. I tried to add some jokes to compensate, but even then I feel this chapter's a bit empty.**

** Also, I have some things to clarify. Some of you might be reading this fic for some fantasy styled action or something of the sort. Just to make sure your expectations aren't crushed in the future, this story will be less action-heavy than your typical fantasy fic. It's more on character interactions, comedy, and, of course, a bit of romance.**

** Think… Service with a Smile, except it's not Service with a Smile and instead it's about some blonde guy working for an immortal witch with some friendship stuff in there.**

** Anyway, enough of that. Here you guys go. I'm going to go suffer more trying to beat those thicc bastards.**

* * *

Salem's Servant: Chapter 3

* * *

Jaune awoke with a searing pain coursing through his face. Everything hurt, and his vision was nothing but one giant blur, blobs of orange, incomprehensible light flicking in his eyes. He kept them shut, hoping the dizziness would fade soon. It felt like someone had just punched his face really hard, or like a heavy brick had somehow fallen onto his face. The headache that was pounding his skull was nigh unbearable, and it made him want to bang his head against a wall to make it stop.

His throat vibrated a pained groan as he inwardly sighed. _Don't tell me I fell off my bed again…_ He hoped he hadn't. It always frustrated him. Somehow, he would always find himself face flat on the floor of his bedroom with an aching face every time he woke up, no matter what he did to prevent it. Pillows blocking the edge of the bed, burrowing himself against the wall, and even putting up a large net to catch him when he fell. It was ridiculous, and with how the floor of his bedroom was seemingly designed to be the most uncomfortable surface in the land of Remnant, it cost him a few crooked noses and small bruises, which made it even more ridiculous.

Though there was something strange this time. As his senses slowly came back, he felt his face wasn't as squashed as he expected. He could even feel a bit of air brushing his cheeks. He did fall on his face, right? What's even odder was the cold and tight feeling around both of his wrists. It was too tight, and his hands were starting to feel a bit numb weak because of it It was like two metal hands were gripping onto his wrist, as if trying to choke the life out of them.

Jaune furrowed his eyebrows. He knew his younger sisters would often drag him from the floor whenever they found his fallen body, but they usually weren't this aggressive.

He tried to inhale some air, but he strangely couldn't. Something was blocking his nostrils. He knew it wasn't a cold – living in a humid town meant colds were as rare as Joanne finding an interest in dating. It was something else… like a pair of corks that had stuffed up his nose.

Why he or anyone else would do that, he didn't know.

Unless they wanted to murder him in his sleep, but then they would have to gag his mouth with something. But even then, most murderers would have thought to use a dagger, or drop some poison into his mouth or something. Blocking his nostrils was very ineffective, considering he was still alive.

This all but confused Jaune, and he decided to finally put in the effort to wake up from his slumber. He wasn't going to let these obviously suspicious circumstances float around his aching head as mysteries.

He slowly opened his eyes, wincing as a headache pounded around in his head. Headaches in the morning were always the worst, especially on a Monday. He blinked a few times as his eyes gradually came into focus. The blobs began to join and blend, warm orange dominating his vision.

A moment later, and his sight finally came back, though his waking only offered him more questions.

Legs spread out on a dusty, wooden floor, he seemed to be in a wine cellar, or a wine storage room of some kind. He wasn't exactly an expert on anything involving wine, but he did know that anything in a wine cellar or storage room was guaranteed to be quite old, like the wine itself. But here, everything was definitely way past what a normal person would call old. The barrels that would store the wine were riddled with mold and mildew. Some less so, but there were a few that were just riddled with the stuff. And even fewer were just simply destroyed beyond any sort of repair - nothing but piles of rotten, olden wood left in place.

The room itself wasn't doing any better. The brick walls were practically crumbling to dust, and some bricks were just outright missing from their places, either left to collect dust on the floor or gone to who knows where. There was a set of stairs just across from where he sat, which he guessed was the only way out. The wooden support beams that were sprawled throughout looked like they could give in and bring the whole place down at any moment. They were so in ruin and riddled with dust and mold, they could probably compete with Remnant itself for the trophy of 'Oldest Thing on Remnant'.

At least they were still strong enough to hold up a few lanterns here and there. He really didn't want to know what would happen if he had been left in the dark.

Ignoring the images of creepy crawlies trying to… crawl about in his head, Jaune cleared his heavily parched throat. It was like swallowing sandpaper - a sign of how long he had probably been in here.

_I doubt any of these would have any wine. If they do, they're probably way past being drinkable… Wait, does wine actually expire?_

He shook the question out of his still aching mind. There was no time to ponder on such needless things. He had other things to worry about…

Like trying to figure out why there was a pile of bloody bricks in the corner of the room…

_I can't tell if that's actual blood or just ketchup… I lost count how many times I mistook ketchup for real blood. _He thought, but then shrugged it off. Perhaps that was a mystery for another time. It wasn't like that pile of blood-stained bricks was important or anything.

Remembering the original mystery he was supposed to solve, Jaune brought his eyes down to his nose. It was hard to see anything past his red, weirdly swelling nose, but eventually, he managed to catch a glimpse of the edge of something brown. Sure enough, there were a pair of wine corks shoved up his nose, stained and soaked by what he assumed was his blood.

He was thankful he couldn't breathe through his nose. He would've likely gagged and thrown up as soon as he took a whiff.

He continued to stare down at the corks in befuddlement. It was clear something must've definitely happened to him. Perhaps he actually got punched in the face or something. But he couldn't remember ever antagonizing someone in the past few days. He liked to keep his body from being beaten to near death, thank you very much.

Maybe he fell down a set of stairs? Sure, it was unlikely since he always held the railing whenever possible, but it was plausible. Or maybe he got hit in the face by something sturdy and heavy, something that could have caused massive damage to his face. Something that was painfully obvious and hinted at by something that wasn't really all that important to him.

Something like a brick.

_Hmm… _Jaune contemplated the thought thoroughly, taking his moment to think it through… and shrugged,_ Nah, that couldn't ever be possible. Getting hit in the face by a brick? That's as possible as me getting with a girl._

Well, either way, brick or no brick, the corks were scratching at his nostrils and it was quite uncomfortable. He moved his hand to remove the corks, only to feel a resistance stopping it and keeping it in place, accompanied by a jingle of metal.

"Huh?" He tried again, and when his hand didn't budge, he confusedly looked up to his hand.

Realization struck him like a slap when he saw a metal cuff tightly gripping his wrist, chaining it to the wall behind him. The same thing went for his other hand, which like the other, didn't budge from his attempts to move his hand free.

_Okay, something's __**definitely**__ happening here._ Jaune thought. He continued to try and free his hands from the chains, pulling and tugging as hard as he could. When his efforts failed, he tried pushing himself up further onto the wall in order to stand, thinking it could provide him with more leverage to pull free. But as he pushed himself up with his foot, he was instantly hit with a searing pain in his ankle, yelling in pain before dropping back down to the floor. It felt like someone had just shot his ankle with an arrow.

Looking down, he noticed his foot was twisted in a weird angle, and he could see his skin swelling from the space between his boot. He must have sprained his ankle or something, how or why he couldn't recall.

The blonde winced as it hurt once more when he tried moving his foot again, and he stopped worrying he might make the injury worse. _Yeah, this isn't going to work._ He sighed, letting his arms limp to rest. His eyes drifted around, trying to find something nearby that could help him cut the chains loose. There were only a few broken pieces of wood from the barrels and a few small piles of rubble, all of which were totally useless in his predicament. He did see a small shard of glass though, but it was too far away to reach, not that he could actually use it to cut metal.

He continued to search for something to help him break free, but after a minute or so passed, he eventually heard a voice from outside the room. His eyes shot towards the stairs across from him.

"I'm telling you, the tea in that place is horrendous! It's like drinking warm, muddy water for heaven's sake!" The voice was a bit muffled, but he could tell it was a guy, one with a gentlemanly accent.

Then came another voice, "You only don't like the tea there because they put mint leaves on them." It was a much more quiet and lazy voice, as if it was coming from someone who had had it with life and gave no damn anymore.

The argument went on and on, mostly talking about the quality of the tea of someplace.

Jaune ignored most of it. He wasn't quite a fan of tea; coffee was more his style. It keeps him awake, and with the right mix, it could be quite yummy.

He absentmindedly listened on as the voices gradually lost their muffling filter, and after a few more seconds, the faceless voices finally revealed themselves as they descended down the stairs, leaving the blonde quite surprised and confused.

He had expected a couple of men to enter the room, either wearing some thick, obscuring clothes that criminals would wear or long, ominous robes like the ones worshippers in an evil cult wore in a few books he had read.

But no, what he instead got was an owl that flapped its wings down the stairs, strangely carrying a snake in its talons. Its feathers were a very dark shade of black like a raven, though they did look soft and fluffy, not something you would typically expect from an animal in all black. It had large eyes as expected from an owl – a pair of bright amber orbs with black pupils that could pierce through even the most pitch-black of darkness. And above one of its eyes was a single pink feather, which was nothing short of odd for an owl.

Jaune wasn't sure if owls with pink feathers existed.

Hell, he wasn't sure if the color pink even existed at all.

The snake in its talons looked just like any other normal snake, with its dark green scales and black beads for eyes. But along with those typical features, the snake seemed to be wearing a top hat and a monocle, like it was going to some fancy dinner party hosted by its fellow high-class friend. But despite how weird it was, it was rather cute, actually. The hat was so small, his pinky finger probably wouldn't fit even if he tried hard.

And when he thought things couldn't get even odder, they talked.

"Again, the tea there is preposterous! I have seen dirty, homeless men prepare much better tea than those buffoons!" The snake stated, owner of the gentlemanly voice.

The owl tiredly sighed as he stopped just beneath the stairs. "Again, the reason you hate the tea there is because they put mint leaves on them. That's literally the only thing that they added. And you told me yourself you haven't even tried it yet. You can't just hate something just because you haven't tried it yet."

"But its tea with leaves!" The snake said like it was the most disgusting thing on Remnant, "That's like putting hot cocoa on rice! It's unnatural!"

"The only thing that's unnatural is you calling break 'tea time.'"

The snake gasped dramatically. "Woah, hey! Now listen here, there's a perfectly good explanation and history behind why we call it 'tea time!' Centuries ago, there was a…"

The snake started droning on about the history of tea. Shaking its head exasperatedly, the owl brought its eyes up to Jaune and finally noticed his woken state. The black-feathered animal quickly cut his friend off, shaking him from his history lesson. "Hey, look. He's awake."

Jaune could see the snake pout for a moment before looking at him with those black, beady eyes. He couldn't help but shiver under their gaze.

"Hm, and so he has. I'm surprised he hadn't slipped into a coma." The snake said, its forked tongue flicking out for a moment afterward.

"I'm surprised as well." Amber eyes looked down at the snake, "I believe it's your turn to tell her."

Looking up at the owl, the snake frowned. "I was hoping you would forget that."

"I don't easily forget things." The owl turned around and flying up the stairs, "Especially when it involves _her._"

The pair of animals traveled upwards and disappeared, leaving Jaune to stare at the stairs confusedly. The flaps of the owl continued to echo from beyond the walls until it slowly softened into nothing. He was now left in silence once more.

Now, he had seen and heard of some odd and peculiar stuff in his childhood. Like that time when he had stumbled upon of silhouette of a big creature while he had been hiking in a forest during early dusk – which he later found out to be just a pile of rocks stacked by someone who had a _lot_ of free time. Or that one time he had found a strange, golden bug hidden inside one of his books, only for it to flee and fly out of the window, never to be seen again.

Or that one time when he had almost walked into his older sister's room one night to find her oddly scratching her inner thigh over and over again while having an asthma attack. Being a curious kid, he watched her for a while, but then got bored and went to sleep.

To this day, he still didn't know why that happened. He was pretty sure his sister wasn't asthmatic or had any rashes at the time.

Those had been pretty odd by his standards. But an owl and a snake with completely clear human voices, talking to each other like they were long-time friends?

_Either whatever happened to me made my mind go all crazy or I've just been insane my whole life._

Jaune continued to ponder on whether he needs to see a doctor after all of this for a few more minutes, resorting to counting the cracks on the walls after he found himself bored. He was just reaching eighty-nine cracks when he finally heard a set of dulled footsteps coming from outside. He waited with bated breath as the click-clack of the footsteps got louder and clearer, and stopped seemingly just at the top of the stairs.

"You two shall wait here. I will call you when you are needed." A woman's muffled voice ordered, soft and smooth like cotton but still having that commanding, fearful edge to it.

"Yes, mistress." The muffled voices of the two animals from before responded in unison.

There was a moment of silence before the footsteps resumed once more. Jaune stared at the stairs as a pair of pale legs slowly descended down the stairs, and he couldn't stop the anxiety inside him from pouring as much sweat as it could.

Eventually, the mysterious figure reached the end of the stairs, and it was then Jaune could only stare frozen. A tall woman stood from across the room, easily taller than him. Her skin was deathly pale all over, and there were strands of deep red and purple veins running up all over her two arms. Her eyes were nothing but a dark and menacing black, with irises as red as blood that could send blizzards down the spines of even the most bravest of people. Her silver-white hair was pulled back into a bun, with offshoots protruding the sides of her head and ornaments suspending from them, and on the center of her forehead was single black, diamond-shaped marking.

Jaune stared with shaky eyes at the monstrous-looking woman. She looked like she had been pulled straight out of a horror novel, only ten times more terrifying now that she was real. And the terror inside him only grew larger when those horrific eyes stared straight at him.

The woman smirked. "I see you have gotten my flyer. Jaune Arc, isn't it?"

"F-Flyer? What flyer? Wh-Who are you? And how do you know my name?" Jaune asked in a nasally voice, watching in growing anxiety as the woman slowly made her way towards him, her long, black robe dragging along the floor. She reached him and swiftly pulled the corks out of his nose. The stench of iron and copper quickly flooded his now unblocked nostrils as she tossed the bloody corks aside, gagging and coughing at the putrid scent.

. "Now now, Jaune. No need to rush your questions." The woman said in a smooth and calm voice, "Your name was stitched on that backpack of yours, which I assumed had been your name. And as for the flyer, you know the one."

"Uh… no, I don't." Jaune tried to remember what she was talking about, only to come up completely blank. He couldn't recall any sort of flyer.

The woman furrowed her dark eyebrows. "The flyer that you have gotten. The one that's color black all over? With the map pointing to this exact place?"

He shook his head. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Her black and red eyes narrowed at him, and Jaune couldn't stifle the whimper that followed. His heart was beating so fast, he thought it would jump at any moment now.

Thankfully, his unfortunate death was not drawing near just yet as the woman exasperatedly sighed. "How wonderful. I told them not to drop it on you so hard, but they don't listen. It looks there'll be no reward for them."

The blonde watched as a red luminescence surrounded one of her arms. She thrust the glowing arm toward the direction of the pile of the bricks, and a single brick swiftly flew to her hand in the same red glow.

Jaune stared anxiously at the brick in her hand. "W-What are you doing?"

The woman lowered down to her knee and gripped his shoulder. "Hold still." It all happened too quickly for him to react as she raised the brick and swung it down hard on his head. A loud thud sounded from the strike, and Jaune yelled out in pain, feeling nothing but blaring, searing pain from where she had struck. He continued to yell and wince in pain as his mind went fuzzy and his vision went blurry for a moment. It felt like multiple daggers had stabbed his brain all at once, only he was still alive and conscious to feel the pain. He felt drops of his own blood already trickling down his forehead.

After a few minutes of enduring an agonizing headache, his vision began clearing once more, and it was then everything came back into his mind once more. Like a floodgate opening and letting waves of ocean water refill the empty seas. He remembered now. Him living in old buildings, the hard-to-read flyer, the long and foot-torturing walk, the spooky manor fit for a murderer's hideout, the terrifying wolf monster…

_The fake job offer…_ Jaune thought, his eyes widening, then fluttered when drops of blood began dropping down his eyelids. He looked up at the woman, who still held the now bloody brick in her hand. "Wait, you're…"

"I see you remember now." She said, tossing the brick back in the direction of the pile. "Well, now that we're on the same page. It's time we talk business."

She got up and patted the dust off her knees. "But first, let me introduce myself. My name is not Serene, unfortunately. I am Salem, an immortal witch."

As he heard those words, Jaune furrowed his bloodied eyebrows, tilting his head to the side. "Wait, you're a witch?"

Salem raised an eyebrow. "Well… yes. It's obvious, isn't it?" She gestured to her eyes and arms. "Why, is there something wrong?"

"Huh? Oh, n-no! There's nothing with… how you look. It's just that… I expected you to be more…" He scrutinized her face, "…old and wrinkly, like how other immortal witches look like."

Salem furrowed her eyebrows menacingly. "So you're saying that I should look old and wrinkly just because I'm an immortal witch?"

He immediately shook his head. "N-no! Not that. It's just… I'm just so used to seeing immortal witches being… you know, old and wrinkly that hearing that you're one, I was honestly surprised that you're… well, not old and wrinkly."

Jaune's pursed his lips, sweat and blood dripping down his temples as Salem glared at him. He couldn't help but fidget anxiously under her menacing gaze.

After a few seconds, she fortunately crossed her arms and looked off to the side. "Racist…"

Jaune tilted his head. "What?"

"Nothing, it doesn't matter." She said, uncrossing her arms, "Anyway, back to business." She put her arms behind her back and adopted a more formal manner, "As you may have figured out, almost everything said on that flyer was fake. There is no rich, high-class family, and there is certainly no one-thousand gold per week pay. Which is just absurd, mind you. No one in their right mind would ever pay a servant that much gold per week."

Jaune averted his gaze, frowning and flushing from embarrassment. He had been desperate for a good job, and incredibly hungry at that. Most people when they saw that flyer would have instantly recognized it as fake and ignore, but to a hungry and desperate Jaune, seeing it instantly threw all logic out of the window.

It had been like finding a treasure chest, only he didn't bother checking if it was real first and ended up with nothing but the bony, rotting remains of a fish instead.

But hearing her talk, he noticed one thing. "Wait, what do you mean 'almost everything'?"

She smirked. "That's where you come in. The pay and high-class family may be bogus, but the servant job isn't."

He furrowed his eyebrows as the gears turned in his head. "So wait, you mean…"

She nodded. "Yes, you are still going to be hired as my servant, just without the massive pay."

The blonde brought his head back, taking umbrage at her demand. Working as a servant to an immortal witch without any sort of payment whatsoever? She may be an immortal witch and he was basically under the tip of her blade, but there was no way he was going to work for her if he wasn't going to gain anything other than impending pain and possibly a horrible death – even if she was as scary as every nightmare combined.

Seriously, what did he look like to her? An idiot who would ignore basic logic and common sense and fall victim to an obvious scam?

He narrowed his eyes at her. "What if I said 'no'?"

Salem raised her eyebrow. "What if you said 'no'? Well…"

His eyes widened only for a split-second before his neck was swiftly pinned onto the wall behind by her hand. Her grip tightened dangerously, blocking his airways and making him gasp for his very life. Tears were already forming in the corner of his eyes as he felt her sharp nails digging into his skin and drawing blood, sucking the life out of him. His hands moved to claw at her hand, but his efforts were useless as they were still chained to the wall.

All the while, Salem kept a calm and unperturbed face. "If you said 'no', I would put you through the worst pain you have ever experienced in your worthless life. I would strap you to a chair and slowly cut off your fingers one by one, break every single one of your toes with a hammer, and slice off your tongue. Then, I would track down your family, capture them and make them watch as I cut open your stomach and pull your entrails out, before forcing them to feed on your flesh from bowls, kill them and feed them to my children." She smiled, "That is what would happen if you said no."

Jaune tried to pant as hard as he could as he stared at her evil, blood-red irises in terror. The way she had vividly described his possible outcome made his mind come up with imagery he could only endure for a few seconds before wanting to throw up. The gallons of blood, the gore, his family being forced to watch him slowly and painfully fade away from this earth…

And the smell… oh gods, the smell…

Already seeing black blobs forming in his peripheral, Jaune frantically nodded. "Okay! Okay! You had me – Ack! – convinced! I'll work for you! I'll – Gah! – I'll be your servant!"

Salem kept wringing her hand around his neck for a second, before finally letting him go. Jaune gasped once his neck was released, taking in as much air as he could. The black blobs in his vision slowly faded away, and he cringed at feeling the small drops of blood rolling down his neck from where her nails pierced his skin. It had felt like his neck was being chomped on by a wolf.

The witch wiped her bloody nails on his pants and smiled. "I'm glad we were able to come to an agreement, Mr. Arc. Now, it's time we establish some rules here."

She straightened up. "First and foremost, you will obey my orders no matter what, and in exactly how and when I want them. Whether it be to clean a small room with your tongue or to stab yourself in the leg with a wooden fork, you will do it exactly as told – no questions asked. Are we clear?"

Jaune frantically nodded.

"Good," Salem continued, "Second, you are not to leave the manor and go outside of the gate without my express permission. Unless it's to go to the market to buy ingredients and other knick-knacks – which in that case, know that I will be watching your every step, so don't even think of running away - I do _not _care what reason or excuse you give, you are not going through that gate. And believe me, I _will_ know when you break this rule."

He nodded once again, silently unsated at that rule. She seemed pretty adamant on keeping him here, which makes running away from her as hard as balancing wood splinters on one another.

The witch continued on. "Third, you are not to touch _any_ of my work unless told to. And I _absolutely _mean it. Fourth, you will only eat when I tell you to, and you will have to prepare your meal for yourself. Fifth, you are not allowed in any areas I personally deem off-limits. And finally, sixth, curfew is at eleven. Any questions?"

"Y-Yeah…" He said in a raspy voice, "W-Why do you need… a servant in the first place…?"

Salem raised a quizzical eyebrow. The blonde prepared himself for the worst, thinking he had asked an abhorrently stupid question or he had offended her somehow, but yet again he escaped death as she answered, "Why do I need a servant? Well, why else other than their intended purpose? As you can see, this manor isn't _exactly_ in the best of states. And although I'm a witch, I'm still a woman and I much prefer cleaner workspaces than all this mold and dust. Plus, I often get too invested in my work that I forget to feed or bathe myself sometimes."

He pondered on her reasoning for a bit, and could only shrug in agreement. It did make a lot of sense. He wouldn't want to work in a messy place either, and his sisters always ordered him to clean their rooms, only for them to mess them up minutes later.

"Now, any more questions?" When he shook his head, Salem smiled and nodded in satisfaction. "Good. I'm pleased we were able to understand each other. I can already tell this will be a beautiful business relationship."

_Yeah, beautiful… More like me getting my life nearly ripped out of me every day while I try to appease her so I don't get killed in a fit of disappointment and rage. And it's all without pay too!_

He was quickly brought out of his thoughts when he noticed Salem dig a hand into her robe, pulling out a knife and small empty vial. His eyes widened at the implications of the items, and his mind went into panic mode at what the witch would do to him next. _Oh gods, this is it! She's going to carve out my heart and drain the blood from it! I don't know why she would since I'd be dead if she did, but it's still a cause for panic nonetheless!_

Salem seemed to have noticed his inner panic since she scoffed at him. "Relax, Mr. Arc. What I'm about to do isn't life-threatening in the slightest." She said as she nonchalantly waved the knife around, "All I need is…"

Jaune didn't have time to voice his protests as Salem brought the knife to his left wrist and sliced it from the side. He yelped when he felt the quick cut, wincing at the stinging pain that began rushing through his arm like a lightning strike. The witch popped the cork from the vial open and quickly brought it up to where the blood from the wound flowed down, filling the small vial halfway in only a matter of seconds.

Once she was satisfied with the amount, she brought the vial back and corked it closed once again. "…a vial of your fresh blood."

Blood continued to flow from practically everywhere on his body at this point as Salem wiped the blood off her knife on his pants and pocketed them back inside her robe (how she was able to keep a sharp, unsheathed knife inside her robe without cutting herself was a mystery to him). Once they were away, Salem then pulled out another vial, this time it was filled to the brim with a strange white fluid. It was thick like very creamy milk, and it seemed to be luminescent with how it glowed in her fingers.

Without saying a word, she popped open the vial and brought it up to his mouth. "Here, drink it."

Jaune stared down at the unknown fluid, his nose picking up a mixed scent of daisies and forest. It smelled really good, and the scent made his ever-growing anxiety and fear wane a little bit. But even with the tranquil, natural and almost addicting aroma, there was no way on Remnant he was going to drink an unknown, glowing drink being given by the same woman who had almost killed naught half a minute ago.

He may be a bit dumb and gullible, but he's not _that_ dumb and gullible.

So when she brought the drink up to his lips, he pursed them and shook his head. "I-I don't want to…"

Salem's eyebrows furrowed, and he could see her irises starting to glow. "What?"

The fear made it hard to get the words out of his mouth. "I-I don't want to drink it…"

Her eyes half-lidded in what he could only assume was growing frustration. "Mr. Arc, I have wasted the last of my aurashrooms and nearly burned a finger off. Drink it, or else…"

The glow of her blood red irises only continued to bloom as he stayed quiet, keeping his lips shut. When it was clear he wasn't going to obey, she sighed and sent a hard punch towards his chest. Saliva and blood sprayed out of his mouth as he doubled over from the strike. He didn't have time to even cough as Salem quickly grabbed hold of his chin with one hand, forcing his mouth open as she dumped the entire vial into his mouth.

Jaune could do nothing but gulp the strange liquid down, coughing and gagging from how fast it was going down his throat. Once it was empty, she shut his mouth back up and kept it close lest he decided to spit the liquid out. The blonde was given no choice but to simply comply with her demands and swallow the rest of thick, undoubtedly harmful liquid and wait for something bad to happen to him…

…Which never came at all. Instead of transforming into some hideous monster or growing a third leg atop his head as his mind suggested, he instead felt invigorated. Like a massive weight on his shoulder had suddenly been lifted and he could finally breathe easily. The strange liquid tasted a lot like strawberries, and as soon as it descended down his insides, he could already feel every single pain on his battered body slowly fade away. The headache caused by the brick on the head and whatever happened before he woke up was all but a memory, the punctures on his neck were slowly closing up and the blood finally stopped streaming as the cut on his wrist healed and left nothing but a scar. His broken ankle was also repairing itself as he felt the socket returning back to its rightful place and the swelling bump slowly shrink, bringing the searing pain along with it.

After everything healed, Jaune couldn't help but feel joyous, uplifted. He didn't know if it was the white fluid or not, but nevertheless, his spirits were all the way up to the heavens. He felt like he could take on anything, like climbing the highest mountain on Remnant and back down in one day, or battling a giant bear with his bare hands and win. He felt like he was invincible!

…But sadly, the feeling went as quick as it came as he was brought back from his power-high down to the Underworld-on-Remnant that was Salem the Witch.

After blinking back into his harsh reality, said witch corked the now empty vial and pocketed it. "Now that wasn't so bad now, was it?"

"You could have told me it wasn't dangerous. I probably wouldn't have struggled." He said with a slight frown.

"Oh trust me, you would have even if I said it granted you god-like powers."

He bashfully averted her gaze, realizing what she said was more than likely true, and that he now wished that stuff _actually_ granted him god-like powers.

Salem stood up and dusted her robe, making Jaune hack and cough from how much dirt had accumulated from just kneeling on one knee. This floor _really_ needed some sweeping.

"Well, with introductions out of the way... Ren! Thomas!" She turned and shouted in the direction of the stairs, clapping her hands.

A few seconds later and the same owl and snake from earlier flew down and stopped a few feet from their mistress. "Yes, your grace?" The snake asked.

The witch quickly pulled out a rusty key from her pocket (_just how much space did she have_?) and tossed it towards the hovering pair. The snake reacted and swiftly caught within its mouth.

She threw her thumb at Jaune. "Take him to his accommodations, make sure he gets settled in and gets a good night's rest for tomorrow. As for your reward, I'll be holding onto it for a while until you two idiots learn how to properly drop a heavy brick on someone's head without giving them memory loss."

The two were visibly saddened in hearing their rewards being forfeited, but didn't protest and gloomily hung their heads. "Yes, mistress." They sighed, the snake's words muffled from the key in its maw.

With that, Salem began strutting towards the stairs. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a business contract to sign."

Silence filled the room as the witch climbed up the stairs and her footsteps gradually faded away. Once she was well away from the room, the snake glared up at its partner. "See? I told you to fly a little lower, you moron!"

The owl sighed. "You know what, I'm not even going to bother. Let's just get him to his room and call it a night."

"'Call it a night,' says the owl." The snake rolled its eyes as its partner ignored its rather speciesist jab and flew closer to Jaune's wrist.

The blonde watched with a wordless mouth as the snake unlocked one wrist with an echoing click, followed by the loud jingles of chains hitting a brick wall, then did the same for the other. His arms flopped to the ground, slightly aching from being suspended up for so long as he rubbed his calloused and seared wrists.

"Th-thanks…" He managed to mutter out, still staring at the two animals with bewildered eyes.

"You're welcome." The snake replied, placing the rusty key somewhere into the owl's thick feathers.

"Now come on," The owl then themselves around and headed for the stairs, "The sooner you can rest, the sooner you can wake up for tomorrow. Salem wouldn't like you being late."

/=/=/

Jaune turned another corner and continued following the two oddly talking animals, who were supposedly leading him to his room. The fact that he was even given an actual room here at the manor despite practically becoming a slave still astounded him. He had expected he would need to sleep somewhere far less comfortable, like in a derelict shed outside or back in that wine cellar/storage room, where any semblance of a bed he had was a cold, hard and dusty wooden floor. Salem seemed like the type of person to do that.

_I guess I should be thankful I'm not __**that**__ much of a slave._

Passing by the still cluttered parlor (which he was sure he needed to clean up sooner or later), he continued to follow the two animals down another corridor. The other two were still conversing, now seemingly chatting about which unnamed bakery had the best pastries – the snake was really adamant its choice of bakeries were highly superior to the owl's.

All the while, Jaune couldn't help but stare at the two, both awed and utterly confused. They were talking. Two species that were created to not be able to recreate human speech and instead make noises that fathers used in their lame jokes were having a normal, comprehensible conversation, like two friends talking about which lancer was better, except it was about pastries this time.

That brick must have done more than just quell his memory loss.

The snake must have noticed his befuddled staring, for it stopped their argument and brought its head to look at him. "What are you staring at?"

His eyes widened. "Um, uh… n-nothing, nothing…"

"You're surprised we can talk, I'm guessing." The owl said, turning its neck all the way back to look at him while still flying.

Undoubtedly creepy as it was, the blonde tried to not let the action unsettle him. "Um… y-yeah. Not a lot of animals… um, talk where I come from."

The snake chuckled. "Oh, you'd be even more surprised by the others. A lot of things here that don't normally talk can talk perfectly well. Mice, cauldrons, gargoyles, giant tentacle monster that's been hiding under a rug for gods know how long… almost anything you can imagine, really. Witch magic is quite amazing if you ignore all the evil behind it."

"Um, okay…?" He furrowed his eyebrows. "Wait, giant tentacle monst-"

The blonde was cut off with a dramatic gasp. "Wait, wait, what am I doing? I forgot to introduce myself!" The snake shook its head. "Geez, staying here has really diminished my manners. Anyway, my name is Thomas Guardel Port the Third, hailing all the way from the hot and sandy dunes of Vacuo! Former adventurer and tea enthusiast!"

"I'm Lie Ren." The owl said, reaching a wing out to the blonde, "But the others just call me Ren. Call me that if you will."

Jaune stared at the wing for a moment in puzzlement, wondering how Ren was able to fly with only one wing. He allayed the mystery out of his mind a moment later and instead shook the owl's hand.

"I'm Jaune Arc the… First, I think?"

He ended the handshake and uncomfortably watched as Ren turned his head back around.

Tom then bowed at him. "Well, it's pleasant to meet you, Jaune. What is that short for, Jaunathan? Jaunemiah? Jaunillius?"

"Uh… I think it's just Jaune."

Thomas brought his head back incredulously. "Wait, that's it? Just 'Jaune'? Huh, I had expected a young chap like you to have a way cooler name."

His lips twitched down at that. He had thought Jaune _was_ a cool name. It was short, sweet, and rolled off the tongue. Girls practically swooned at hearing his name.

Well, at least that was what his mom told him when he was a kid.

Ren shook his head. "Don't listen to him, Jaune. Tom here just likes to run his mouth whenever possible."

"I do not!" Thomas protested. "I just have a lot of things to say in my mind, and often times, it gets too full and the words just burst out of my mouth."

"Yeah, keep telling yourself that, Tom." Amber eyes then shifted to the blonde, "Anyway, where are you from? How'd you end up here?"

"I, uh…" Jaune hesitated. His mind went all the way back to when he was homeless in Vale, where all he had done was make mistakes that just toughened his life even further. Trying to get into Beacon, ultimately failing and then falling for a blatantly obvious trap that even a baby with birth problems could distinguish. It was both moronic and embarrassing, and he feared anyone getting wind of his laughable series of events would make them see him as nothing but a fool.

_But I guess it can't hurt to tell these two._ Jaune thought, _They seem to be stuck in here with me too. Surely they wouldn't demean me for that._

The two continued to stare at him in waiting. Eventually, Jaune relented and sighed. "Well… I came from a town called Ansel. But then I… um… moved away and decided to travel Vale to apply to Beacon as a knight. It was sort of a lifelong dream of mine – a dream that was instantly crushed when I realized I was nowhere near fit to be a knight, and I got a rejection letter not even a day after I submitted my transcripts. After that, I didn't want to go back home as a failure, so I decided to stay in the city, hoping to make ends meet there. Of course, I couldn't find a job that could support me and I was left homeless. But then I found the flyer on Vale's job board and I took it without looking too much into it. And now I'm here, stuck being a servant for an immortal witch."

Jaune hung his head low in gloom, trying to stop all the self-deprecating thoughts from getting to him. It was quite hard to get that all out, and he almost wanted to tear up in the middle of his exposition. Gods, he was such an idiot. There was no doubting he was the biggest moron on Remnant right now. If he had just trained instead of wasting his childhood away dreaming, none of this would have ever happened. He would have gone to Vale and gotten that acceptance letter into Beacon. He would have trained even further to become the greatest of knights, meet new friends, gone to new places, protect people, and probably even find a—

The blonde's thoughts were instantly halted when Thomas snorted. He brought his eyes up to look at the snake, and he must have had something funny on his face for the snake instantly burst in full-blown laughter.

"Hahaha!" The snake laughed, "My gods, you must have been dropped on your head as a baby, because wow! Hahaha!"

Jaune frown's deepened as the snake went into a massive laughing fit.

"Tom!" The owl chided his friend.

"Hahaha! On- Hoo! Only a gullible idiot would fall for such obvious bait! Haha– OW!"

Ren's talons squeezed tightly upon the snake's long body. "Tom, you better shut up or I'll toss you into Salem's room and lock you in there for the rest of the night."

"Ow, ow! Okay! Okay, sorry! Ow!" The snake pleaded, and Ren loosened his death grip, though there was still a visible tightness in his grasp.

Tom panted. "Ow… geez, it's only normal that I laugh at someone else's idiocy. Ah…"

Ren shook his head. "See? Running his mouth." The owl noticed the blonde's gloom, and then said, "Look, Jaune. There's no need to get all down about what you did. You were homeless, desperate and out of luck, so naturally you would take any opportunity to get out of rock-bottom without looking far into the details. As they say, desperate times call for desperate measures… though I think that applies more to going into crime more than throwing logic out of the window. But I digress.

"Look, my point is that you shouldn't feel bad for being desperate. I know I would've ignored all warning signs if I were in your position."

Jaune stared at the owl as he continued to fly and lead him away. His words had pulled him from his bummer somewhat, though he was still a bit mad at himself for falling into a trap. At least he wasn't sad and mad enough to want to punch himself until his face was just a pile of fleshy mush.

He could tell Ren had some experience with bringing people from their gloom before.

"Thanks, Ren. For cheering me up… I think." He said. The owl didn't turn his head (thankfully), but did nod and acknowledged his gratitude. The blonde continued. "So, where are you two from? How'd you two end up working for Salem?"

"Well, as I said, I used to be quite the adventurer." Thomas boasted, "Travelling the lands of Remnant in search of treasure and action, conquering foes and slaying evil everywhere I go, and, of course, getting all the women I could possibly want in my arms."

"You were just a cartographer, Tom…" Ren said, but his words simply fell on deaf ears.

The former adventurer continued, "Then when I traveled to Vale, I stumbled into this manor here. Thought I could check it out and explore, perhaps even slay a few ghouls that possibly roamed around here. But when I ventured too deep into the manor, I got spotted and chased by Tenebris, Salem's gooey wolf monster pet that chased you around a while ago, until I eventually got captured." Tom sighed, "Then the witch turned me into a snake and kept me here as punishment for trespassing."

"My fate was similar to his." Ren started, "I was traveling with someone to the city. We needed a place to stay but every inn we went to was too expensive for our budget. Then we stumbled upon this manor. At first, we thought it was completely abandoned, so we decided to set up camp here. I guess we thought wrong. As a result, she turned both of us into animals, just like Tom here."

Jaune stared at the owl's back. There was a bit of relief that waved through him. They had suffered a fate similar to his. Tom… not so much, but Ren's he could relate to. They had both thought this place was another – a grand manor owned by a rich family who had a knack for broken and abandoned-looking things to Jaune, and an empty, jilted home where he and this yet to be named traveling partner could rest for a night to Ren – before they both unfortunately found out it was anything but what they had imagined.

And now they were both stuck here for who knows how long, forced to serve a powerful, immortal witch who could kill them with a snap of her fingers.

He didn't know if he should be happy he wasn't alone or not.

The trio continued traversing down a number of halls for a few minutes. With their introductions done and out of the way, Ren and Tom continued on with their argument from before, which now consisted of them simply shouting which type of tea they think was best. The blonde tuned out their discussion, too busy looking around and trying to map out the place. If he was going to stay here and be forced to work as a servant, then he might as well be familiar with the manor. If what Ren said was true, then he didn't want to be late just because he got lost. He was already in hot water with the witch, his hand unconsciously feeling the absent tight feeling around his neck.

"We're here." Jaune brought his eyes back to the owl, who had stopped flying and hovered beside a door. It was more abandoned-looking than every other door he had seen. The knob was rusted and crooked, and he doubted it had any use other than to make the door look more like a door. The wooden surface was chipped away and covered in scratch marks, all of which he was certain was the work of that wolf monster thing…

He shuddered. _Yup. Definitely getting nightmares._

Ren beckoned him to enter. Jaune gripped the doorknob and twisted it. However, the wood surrounding the knob instantly snapped from its place the moment he turned it, small splinters falling to the floor. The three stared at the broken doorknob in his hand as he brought it up, Jaune's eyebrow lifted as he eyed it.

"Um... just… leave it on the floor." Ren said, before he went and pushed the even more broken door open.

The blonde nodded and did what he suggested, then followed the owl inside. Jaune glanced about the room, taking the appearance in. It was as bad as he had imagined it to be. The claustrophobic room's once wallpapered walls were all but scratched up and in a horrible state. The floor was so too, and he could see some of the black goo that had oozed from the shark-like mouth of his impending nightmares staining the wood. A single bed was pushed into a corner, so filthy and dirty that even a homeless man wouldn't think of sleeping on it, with a nightstand where a single lit candle stood. There was a shattered up window at the foot end of the bed that showed the nightly darkness outside, and there was an equally broken dresser just below that, his familiar backpack laying limp on the floor beside it.

"This used to be Tenebris' playroom, which I guess explains all the scratches and the goo," Tom stated, looking about the room with the blonde before settling his eyes on him. "It may not look like much, but this the best you're going to get. Unless you prefer sleeping in a room with a gagging smell and a mold problem."

Jaune sighed, deflated. He rubbed the back of his neck as he continued to look about the room. "Well… I guess it's not that bad."

_It's certainly better than nothing._

Ren flew over to the dresser. "There's a servant's uniform in here that Salem wants you to wear tomorrow during your first work, shoes are under the dresser. You can also place some of your own clothes in here if you want."

He walked over to said dresser and opened the top drawer. Inside was indeed a folded up uniform – a white dress shirt with a black vest, along with a black bow tie neatly placed on top. It wasn't as clean as he thought it would, however. Spots of unknown substances stained the otherwise pearly white shirt, and there were a few visible holes on the vest he could see. Even a corner of the bow tie was cleanly nipped off.

"We tried to clean it up as best as we could." Ren said, looking down at the uniform, "But it's quite hard to with these talons. They kept cutting up the uniform."

"And I don't even have any limbs," Tom added.

The blonde sighed, his fingers feeling the dusty cloth of the dress shirt. This was the uniform that he was going to be wearing for a majority of his time here in the manor – as a servant. A ratty, stained servant's uniform that reminded him of his unfortunate predicament. His unfortunate predicament that he himself had placed upon himself, and in which he only had himself to blame.

He was going to be stuck here for a long time, isn't he?

"Hey, Jaune?" Tom's voice brought him back to reality, and he lifted his eyes up at the snake, humming quizzically in asking. The snake said, "You've been looking at that uniform for almost a minute now. I'd have thought you suffered from a freezing spell or something."

"Oh, um…" Jaune coughed into his fist, his red flushing in embarrassment as he closed the drawer. "I'm just… tired. Running around for my very life took quite a toll on me." He lied, not wanting to tell them of his melancholy concerning his problem.

"Then you better get some sleep then." Ren said, "You don't want to nod off during your first work, especially under Salem's eyes."

Jaune nodded and let out a yawn. He may have lied about his reasoning, but he sure wasn't lying about his fatigue. All that running away he did earlier and his confrontation with Salem actually took quite a toll on him, and he could feel himself already falling straight to the floor any moment now.

Ren started making his way toward the door, ever so towing along Tom in his talons.

"Well, we'll be on our way now." The snake said, lifting his tail end up to tip his top hat at him, "Here's hoping Salem doesn't kill you on your first day."

The two flew out of the room as the snake pulled the door closed with his best efforts, which utterly failed and only managed to make the bounce back and creak back ajar. Jaune listened to the flaps of Ren's wings slowly dull down the corridor until it was no more. Once he was left in silence once again, he sighed and groggily made his way and dropped onto the bed. It creaked dangerously under his weight, but he could care less in his tired state.

_Well, I'm a servant now. Though not the kind of servant I was hoping for. _Jaune gloomily thought as he stared at the shabby ceiling. _I wonder if my family is looking for me…_

Faces of his parent and sisters flashed in his mind as he pondered on the thought. Surely they would be looking for him after being gone so long, right? His family may have been derisive regarding his dreams of becoming a knight, but they couldn't just let their only son and brother go missing, right?

He was certain his dad and his sisters were out there looking all over Vale for him now.

They would, wouldn't they?

He shook his head. Oh, who was he kidding? He snuck out without telling them and he had been in Vale for more than a week. They surely would have found him by then if they actually went to look for him. No doubt he would be grounded in his room this moment if they had actually found him.

The realization made him frown. No one was coming for him, not even his own family. No one else knew where he was, and if there _was_ someone who did and attempted to rescue him, he was sure they wouldn't even get within twenty feet of Salem before they suffered a horrible fate.

"I guess this is my life now…" He muttered as his eyes slowly closed, "No one's coming to save me, and there's an immortal witch between me and freedom…"

He grabbed the pillow from the head of the bed and dropped his head on it, rolling onto his side as sleep slowly took over.

"If only I had put in the effort…"

/=/=/

**…And done! Hooray!**

** Next chapter will be the start of Jaune's new job. A few character introductions in that one, and a bit of not-so-subtle foreshadowing of what's to come.**

** Still haven't beaten the Watcher Knights, sadly, but I'll persevere! I ain't giving up because of a few thicc Sonic knock-off knights.**

** ~Christian Maulkner, professional masochist**


	4. Chapter 4

**Okay, this took way longer than I anticipated. I had this chapter planned out beforehand, and I thought it would be quite short at first.**

** Didn't know it would take at least 15,000 words.**

** But hey, at least you have a long chapter now! Yay…!**

** … I really need to stop editing while I write.**

** Anyway, moving on from that, there was a review in the last chapter that said that Jaune was more of an idiot than they'd like and that dialogue was weird, mainly Thomas'. I tried my best in making Jaune less stupid in this one, and in making the dialogue sound more 'in-character' and stuff. Let me know what you think.**

** There's also some things regarding reviews down in the note at the end of the chapter. Please read it!**

** Now with that out of the way, here's chapter numero cuatro, sponsored by (not really) Billy Cobb's Zerwee EP! I've listened to that record so much writing this, it's ingrained into my brain at this point. Way better than anything Weezer has put out recently.**

** And oh God, 1955 is so good!**

* * *

Salem's Servant: Chapter 4

* * *

Jaune's eyes fluttered open as his body slowly awoken from its deep slumber. He could feel the soft but tattered fabric of the bed, encompassing his backside, like the warmth one would get from the lovely embrace of a mother. It felt quite cozy, and he couldn't help but want to burrow himself further into the feeling, in spite of how it smelled rather putrid.

It reminded him of his old bed from back home. When he didn't find himself having fallen face-first onto the floor, the feeling of his head resting on his overtly soft pillow and his body enveloped by his withered yet cozy blanket never failed to bring a soft smile to his face once morning finally came. It was just so soft and homey that he often found himself wanting to sleep for just a few more minutes; to experience that cozy feeling for a little longer.

He missed that feeling so much. After having to sleep on cold, stone floors and cover himself with ratty cloths that invaded his nostrils with less-than-pleasant smells for weeks, his mind longed for an actual bed like a hopeless peasant fawning over a princess. He hadn't even minded if that bed wasn't even considered a bed by normal people; as long it was better than sleeping on the floor, he could care less about the stains and the bedbugs.

And now that cozy feeling was back after so long, and all he wanted to do was sleep all day. He didn't want to let it go just yet.

But even as he tried his best to close his eyes shut, hoping sleep would take him over once more, he was already too deep into the world of the woken to return to his slumber. The room was too bright to his liking, and the smell akin to a rotting corpse was just too much to ignore.

Not to mention Salem herself. The fear of what she would do if she caught him oversleeping all but kept him awake now.

With a frustrated groan, Jaune fully opened his eyes and rubbed them of muck. So much had accumulated in his eyes that it would do just as good if his eyes were simply made of the stuff. He never knew what caused them. Some had said that a man made of sand would come to those sleeping in the dead of night and sprinkle sand onto their eyes, supposedly giving them good dreams.

He didn't believe any of that. Nightmares were still a thing, no matter how much muck there was to clean off.

Once his eyes were clear of the stuff, he dropped his arms onto the bed and opened his eyes fully, staring idly at the moldy and decrepit-looking ceiling of his room.

He drew out a sigh. There was a list of things that he often wished and hoped were far from being real. For example, the horrifying monsters that appeared in many of his books that he had read, which were often illustrated; and his family's indifference and distaste towards his dreams of being a knight.

It was a fairly long list with many different things on it, and waking up still trapped in Salem's manor was the newest entry.

_Well, since I'm still here, I might as well get to work. I don't want to anger Salem more and fall further from her good graces._ As much as he heavily disliked the idea of working for her, he had no choice but to obey her orders. Unless he had the powers of an ancient god or some weapon that could swiftly put an end to an immortal witch's life, he was as good as a mercilessly mutilated corpse if he ever dared to defy her.

Plus, she was _horrifying._ Even a non-threatening glance from her could likely have him vigorously washing the yellow stains off his pants.

He brought his arms under him and began pushing himself up from the rickety old bed. His dazed eyes drifted over to the shattered window. Sunlight was pouring into the room like a golden waterfall onto a lake, engulfing the walls and furniture in a bright yellow sheen. The blonde squinted his eyes and looked away, wincing from the light. He never knew mornings could be this bright. Even with the sky as clear as glass, it never got this bright.

You would think an old manor now owned by an evil witch would have mornings way darker than this.

Shielding his eyes with his arm, he took a glance at everything in the room. It was still the same as he remembered it, what with how ramshackle everything was still was. The spots of black goo were still there, the desk beside the bed was still intact, and even the doorknob was still snapped off.

Though there was something… off. He didn't know what or why, even though he was certain everything was still in its place. It was like the feeling he would get whenever his sisters stole something from his room, but whatever they stole was so miniscule it would be nigh impossible to spot the difference.

He was sure nothing was missing, yet something told him otherwise.

He narrowed his eyes, not from the bright sunlight but from rising suspicion, as he scanned the room over and over, looking for something that might prove his suspicions right. But no matter how much he tried to spot something out of place, everything was still where it was, in the same state as he remembered. Nothing looked wrong, and nothing looked missing.

So then, why was he feeling something was off?

As he pondered on the reason behind his suspicion, his palm dropped back onto his bed, and it was then his eyes widened. They slowly drifted down to his hand, and he finally noticed the tattered up blanket that surrounded most of his lower body. His fingers brushed and felt the canvas-like material. There were a few holes here and there, and a couple of unknown stains as well. It wasn't the best looking blanket, far from it, but in spite of its appearance, it was warm and cozy enough to actually sleep in.

His eyebrows furrowed at the sight. Wait, since when was this blanket here? As far as he could recall, he never went to get one, nor was there even one provided for him when he entered the room last night. Surely, he would remember if he actually went to get one, or if there was one waiting for him in the room. He was certain that brick didn't mess up his memory that much.

Strange… so either he somehow managed to traverse through the manor and managed to find a blanket while sleepwalking, or Ren and Tom brought him one. He highly doubted the latter – he was certain they didn't want to get caught giving the new servant a blanket in the dead of night by Salem, unless they were secretly suicidal.

_Though I doubt sleepwalking would be a viable reason as well. _He stroked his chin in thought._ This manor is so decrepit, I wouldn't be surprised if I managed to come back with glass shards stuck to my—_

Jaune's thoughts instantly ceased however when something soft suddenly dropped onto his head.

"Oh, hey! You're finally awake!"

The chipper voice sent his body stiffening like a statue. Something was on his head, he could feel it. It was small and fuzzy like a ball of yarn, but he could feel whatever it was shifting about, concluding it was definitely alive. All the while, Jaune's body was shaking uncontrollably as he tried his best to stay still, the thought of whatever that was killing him if he ever so moved an inch blaring in his panicking mind.

_Calm down, Jaune. Calm down. Calm the frick down!_

"Um, hello? Earth to new person?" He heard the thing say, then his mind devolved swiftly into chaos when he felt what seemed like little paws taking steps through his golden hair.

Step after step after anxiety-inducing steps, the blonde did his best to keep still for all of it, and he inwardly cringed when the paws eventually landed on his exposed skin.

The thing suddenly stopped, and he still didn't dare to move. Tense seconds turned into what felt like minutes, until—

"Hey!"

"GAAAH!" Jaune girlishly screamed as soon as a white-furred face popped into his vision, his hand acting fast and slapping whatever that was away from his face. Squeaks and high-pitched screams (not his) swiftly filled the air, all stopped by a loud thud against a wall, and followed by another one shortly after.

All the while, Jaune heavily panted, his heart pounding and racing to nigh dangerous levels. His hands were shaking uncontrollably, and sweat was already running down his head. After a few moments, he quickly managed to recollect himself as his mind caught up and realized what just happened. He blinked and brought his eyes over to the floor, right beside his backpack.

A small white mouse whined in pain as it pushed its body up from the ground, its little paws nursing its head in between its large round ears. "Ow… that hurts… Jeez, is that how you say 'good morning' where you come from? You must come from a really weird place." It said in a high, girlish voice.

Realizing it was still alive, Jaune frantically searched around him for a weapon of some kind. He eventually settled for the candle holder on his desk, quickly grabbing it and raising it up, ready to fight back if the need came. It wasn't the greatest weapon, but it would do.

"Wh-Who are you? Are you evil? Are you trying to kill me!?" He knew the last two were stupid questions – no one would ever tell someone they're evil or trying to kill them unless they're amateurs or very theatric – but it never hurt for some confirmation.

"Huh? What?" The mouse looked up at him with its black beady eyes, which widened at the sight of the menacing candleholder. "Woah, no! No no no no! I'm not evil!" It waved its paws at him in a 'Please don't hit me with a candleholder!' gesture, "There's no evil here! None at all! Completely evil-free! See!"

Jaune watched as the mouse pointed toward its smile, which looked rather not-evil.

But even with that supposedly non-evil smile, he still wasn't going let his guard down around it.

"...Why were you on top of my head?" He asked the mouse.

The mouse blinked, and a paw rubbed the back of its head. "W-Well… I was running around in the ceiling when I noticed that you woke up through that hole there!"

She pointed above him. He followed her paw, and indeed there was a rather large hole in the ceiling, among many others.

"I thought I could drop down and greet you a good morning! Then you… you know, _Bam!_" She slapped the air, recreating what had happened seconds prior before doubling over and wincing, "Ow… still hurts…"

Staring at the pained little creature, Jaune frowned. Guilt ran through him. He did slap the mouse quite hard, didn't he? Looks like he was much stronger when panicked… then again, it was a small mouse, so it was likely his strength was still the same—weak and pathetic.

Sighing, the blonde dropped the candle holder from the air, his arm plopping back onto the bed. "I'm sorry for hitting you… I guess you're not really evil and trying to kill me, at least from the looks of it. Are you okay?"

"I forgive you, and yeah, I'm fine. Don't worry, I've had worse." The mouse said, making its way towards the bed.

The slight limp in its step didn't go unnoticed though, deepening Jaune's frown. "Are you sure? You don't look like it."

"No, I'm fine, really!" The mouse waved its paw in a dismissive gesture, "I fell through a bunch of holes from the roof all the way down to the second floor one time and yet I'm still here, alive and kicking!"

Jaune wanted to question if that was true or not, but ultimately dismissed it. Perhaps she was just exaggerating. "Okay… if you say so…"

He then scratched his unkempt bed hair. "So… who are you, anyway?"

The mouse, in spite of the limp, managed to jump onto the bed with ease. It sat on its hind legs as it gestured to itself. "The name's Nora Valkyrie! But you can call me Nora! I'm the manor's resident mouse!"

"Huh, well, it's nice to meet you. I'm—"

"Jaune Arc, I know," Nora finished for him. "You're the new servant everyone's been talking about. I thought everyone was just lying at first, but I guess they weren't after all, now that you're here in the flesh!"

The blonde lightly raised an eyebrow. Everyone? So, did that mean there were more people here than just what he had seen, who were no doubt in the same situation as him and Ren and everyone else? Huh... either Salem deliberately went and captured a lot of people herself, or a lot of people just happened to stumble upon this manor and ended up getting captured themselves.

He shuddered. There were a lot more of Salem's victims in here than he thought. He just hoped they don't try to kill him.

Jaune brought his attention back to the mouse. "So… since you can talk, I'm guessing you got turned into an animal just like Ren and Thomas?"

"Mhm! That's— Wait," She gasped, "You've met Ren!?"

His face contorted in slight confusion. "Um... yes?"

She gasped once more, and Jaune jolted in surprise when she enthusiastically hopped onto his leg. "Oh my gosh, really? What's your opinion of him? Do you think he's great? I honestly think he's great! He's definitely one of the greatest people on all of Remnant!"

"Uh..." He scratched his head awkwardly, "Nora, I've only met him yesterday. I... don't think I can consider him a great person yet."

_ Plus, if I remember correctly, he and Tom dropped that brick onto my head when I was trying to run away from Tenebris..._

Nora continued on nonetheless, "Well, whatever you think of him, I think he's amazing! He's kind, helping, and makes absolutely delicious pancakes. Like the greatest pancakes in Remnant! And whenever I hear him talk about me..." She happily sighed, bringing her paws to her chest, "It always makes my heart... uh..."

Nora suddenly stopped and trailed off, looking off to the side, "It... um... makes my heart flutter with platonic, friendly joy! Yup! Completely platonic happiness! N-No romantic stuff here! No, sir! Just... two friends being together, but not _together-together!_ No, not that! Just... yeah..."

Nora ended off her rambling with a toothy smile, which he could see she was straining to keep up. In the end, Jaune simply raised an eyebrow. That was a bit odd. It was like her mind just turned itself off and she just began spouting out random nonsense – nonsense he could barely make out from how high-pitched her voice had become.

"Um... okay, I guess?" Jaune said, hoping she hadn't said anything quite important in that rambling of hers. "So I guess you're his traveling partner that he mentioned, right?"

Nora inhaled and let out a deep, slow breath, recollecting herself for a moment before nodding. "Mhm! We used to travel around Remnant, going from village to town to city, while doing some jobs on the side for gold. You know, deliveries, hunting quests, stuff like that. I guess you could say we're nomads."

She then scratched the back of her head. "Well… until we got to Vale, and we—"

"You didn't have enough to pay for an inn. You found this manor, thought it was empty, and got captured and turned into animals by Salem." Jaune finished for her. "I know, Ren told me."

"Yeah… pretty much." She rubbed the side of her muzzle, averting her eyes. Jaune noticed the saddened look on her, and couldn't stop a frown from forming. Never had he thought a cheery mouse could look so sad.

He thought of petting her on the head in hopes of cheering up, but Nora did it for him by suddenly perking up. "So, what are you doing?" She asked, her chipper attitude back to normal.

The change of subject was clear as day, even to a fool, but he didn't let it bother him. She probably wanted to forget that part of her and Ren's life, and he could respect that.

He scratched his cheek as he answered her question. "I... don't know. All I know is that I had to wake up early so that I wouldn't make Salem mad. Other than that, she didn't give me any jobs to do. At least, not yet."

His hand landed back onto the tattered blanket that laid cozily on his lap, his eyes drifting down at it. Feeling the fabric and remembering what had him feeling strange mere minutes ago, he looked back at Nora. "Thanks for giving me the blanket, by the way. Must have been hard work trying to carry this whole thing over here."

Nora brought her eyes to the blanket in question, only to tilt her head quizzically. "Uh... I didn't bring you that."

He furrowed his eyebrows. "Wait, you didn't?"

"Uh uh. Nope." She said, shaking her head, "It's too big and heavy for me to drag by myself."

It was his turn to tilt his head. "So, wait... if it wasn't you, then who did?"

"That would be Ren and me." A gentlemanly voice caught their attention, and they both looked toward the door. Thomas slithered through the hole where the door knob once was, making his way down to the floor and toward the bed. "You should be thankful we remembered to give you a blanket and for Ren worrying you might get a cold if we hadn't. We had to wait for _hours_ until Salem finally went to sleep!"

_ Huh, I guess I was wrong about the blanket._

"Uh, thanks, for giving me the blanket and all." Jaune said, holding up the fabric to him, "I really appreciate it."

"You're welcome, I suppose," Thomas said, his annoyance lingering a bit in his voice. He then straightened up and continued, "Anyway, I came here to tell you that Salem needs you at the dining room. For what, I don't know. All I know is that she needs you there now. And by now, I mean _now._"

His eyebrows raised at the announcement. Sensing the need to be quick, he was already moving toward the drawer where his uniform was, ripping the blanket from his lap while Nora quickly jumped out of the way.

He needed to _hurry._

"I'll be there in just a few minutes! I just need to change!" He exclaimed, frantically taking off his coat as he shoved one foot into a fresh sock he pulled from his pack. He could probably do without a bath – he just had one yesterday, and he didn't smell all that bad. Well, not to him, at least.

Thomas began making his way back to the door. "Well, you better hurry up. Ren and I will be waiting outside. We'll lead you to the dining room."

"Mphkay!" The blonde said, taking off his shirt.

With that, the snake pushed the door open with his head and slithered his way out. But before he left, he popped his head back in.

He looked up at the mouse. "Oh, and Nora?"

She looked away from Jaune. "Hm?"

He adjusted his monocle, an unamused stare behind it. "Try not to stare too much now."

The snake disappeared into the hall right after. Nora blinked as warmth quickly crept up Nora's furry face, a red tint so strong it was visible past all the white fur. She snuck a quick glance at the still changing Jaune, and coughed into her paw.

"R-Right..." She said, before hopping off the bed and following the snake, leaving the blonde to change by himself.

/=/=/

After a couple of minutes of frantically throwing clothes around and trying to fit his legs into some pants, Jaune exited his room and walked into the hall, now clad in his servant's uniform. Along with the white dress shirt, black velvet vest and bow tie that had so many holes and cut, he might as well be naked; there had also been some black slacks, which, as expected, were also very shabby, accompanied by a pair of equally mucky black leather shoes.

The uniform was a bit tight on his body, what with everything a size smaller. He could barely button up his dress shirt without the risk of popping one of the buttons out, and he had to tuck his stomach in as much as he could in order to fit into his pants. Even the laces on the bow tie could barely reach around his neck, and he had trouble adjusting the thing before it was loose enough to where he wasn't going to choke to death at any moment.

Basically, the uniform was as uncomfortable as wet socks. But he couldn't blame Ren and Thomas, though. They had tried their best to clean it up for him, and they had done much for him in the short time he's been here that it would be wrong to complain about something as trivial as the sizes of his uniform.

Though he did wish they had one of larger size.

But that wasn't of matter right now! He needed to report to Salem. He could already feel her patience wearing thin as the seconds ticked by.

After meeting up with the others, Ren, Thomas and Nora wasted no time in leading him to the dining room. The owl flew and zoomed through the halls of the manor while clutching Thomas in his talons, with Nora gripping tightly onto the feathers on his head. All the while, Jaune tried his best to follow them, numerous times had he fallen behind and almost lost them past the corner, only to luckily catch up again and again.

Saying Ren was fast would be an understatement.

After blazing down a few more hallways and drifting around one last corner (and almost slamming himself against the wall), Jaune finally slid to a stop beside a hovering Ren and the others. A large set of double doors stood before them. As expected, it didn't look much better than everything else in the manor. Scratches – likely from Tenebris – marked the door all over, and the fancy gold-plated door handles were rusted to all sorts of unfamiliarity. At this point, they looked more bronze than gold.

The blonde panted and doubled over, hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. That run took quite a toll on him. His legs felt like they were being dipped into lava, and he could already feel his throat begging for some water.

And oh gods, the sweat. As if having a uniform a size too small wasn't enough, now he had endure the feeling of clothes sticking to his skin. He just hoped he didn't reek.

Darn it, why did he decide to run again?

...Oh right, the fear of agonizing pain.

"The dining room's right in there," Thomas said, nodding towards the large doors. "I'd get moving if I were you."

"Yeah, just... let me catch my breath first." A few seconds ticked by as the blonde took a few deep breaths, before straightening himself up with one last huff, "Hoo! Okay!"

With a wipe of his forehead, Jaune gripped and twisted one of the rusty door knobs, and pushed the door open.

He was quickly greeted with the sight of a grand room (well, at least it used to be). It was quite spacious, but it wasn't as large as a dining room you'd typically see in a castle. As usual, the walls were covered with tattered, dusty wallpaper, though they were much less so in here than everywhere else. A rusted chandelier – which he highly doubted worked – hung from the center of the ceiling, covered in so much cobwebs, you'd be flailing around trying to get them off you more than actually cleaning. Multiple burnt out candles and lanterns were used as substitutes for the chandelier, which were all scattered around the room.

And right in the middle of everything was a long dinner table. Old silverware of all kinds were bestrewn across the worn white cloth, and around fourteen mahogany chairs were present, some pushed in while others were left abandoned on the floor.

One of them, though, provided a seat for Salem.

And as soon as he entered the room, he could already tell by the look on her face she wasn't happy.

Jaune gulped. "Y-You needed me?"

With crossed legs, the witch had a finger tapping on her knee as she lightly glared at him. "You're late."

Jaune's mouth thinned to a line as he began sweating anxiously. Oh no. Here it comes. He could already hear himself screaming his lungs out as Salem slowly peeled his nails off whilst she drove a branding iron into his stomach... oh gods...

The blonde bowed his head down as the witch continued to glare at him. "I-I apologize... It won't happen again." He said, his voice laden with cracks.

She didn't say a word, only agonizing silence. Jaune kept his head down, and only glanced up to see what she was doing. She just silently sat there, the light glare she was holding on him still present, making him immediately avert his gaze.

If looks could kill, then he would have been long gone by now.

Seconds ticked by, and eventually, he heard Salem let out a sigh. "Let's hope you stay true to your word, Mr. Arc."

Jaune let out a breath of relief at her words, thankful his impending pain was postponed yet again.

He lifted his head and straightened up. "I-I will. So, why did you call me for?"

"Breakfast."

The blonde blinked. No words were spoken for a moment as he confusedly stared at the witch, the rusty cogs in his head ear-piercingly screeching as they turned.

Eventually, his mind recollected itself and he faintly tilted his head. "B-Breakfast?"

"Yes, breakfast." The witch repeated, "I need you to cook breakfast for me. Why else would I call for you from the dining room in the morning?"

Hearing her words, Jaune mentally smacked his forehead at the blatant obviousness. Breakfast! Of course, it would be breakfast! Why else would it be? It wasn't like Salem can live without eating. Gods, first day as a forced servant/borderline slave and he was already screwing things up.

And he had to do this for who knows how long!

Noticing the witch starting to tap her knee impatiently, the blonde quickly gathered himself and nodded. "Oh! Yes, breakfast! Of course! Um," He coughed into his fist, "D-Do you anything particular in mind?"

"Anything will do." Salem said, lazily checking her sharp nails, "Just as long as it doesn't taste like bugs or raw meat. I've already had enough of those before. Any more and I'll lose my mind."

Jaune had no idea if that last bit was a poor attempt at a joke or not. Weren't jokes supposed to have a punchline, or – and though he would never say this in front of her, ever – be funny?

If it _was_ a joke, then she needed to work on her humor more.

Not that he'd ever say that to her and ultimately find himself hanging from his feet with a slit throat because of it, even if you paid him a fortune.

With that, Jaune nodded at her request. "O-Okay. I'll... I'll go see what I can cook up. Um..." He scratched his head awkwardly, "You wouldn't mind if I asked if there's a pantry or kitchen somewhere, would you?"

The witch looked at him for a second, then sighed. She nodded her head towards a pair of doors further down the room. "There's a kitchen right over there, along with a pantry. Make sure you work quickly. I'm starving, and I have work to do."

Glancing over to the door in question, Jaune nodded. "O-Okay. It shouldn't take too long." He began scurrying over to the kitchen, "I'll be back with your meal, Salem!"

Before he could make it far though, he felt a force suddenly grip onto his legs, locking them in place and stopping him. Confused, he looked down, and he noticed a red glow surrounding his legs – the same red glow that had engulfed that brick from yesterday.

He turned his head to look behind him and was met with Salem piercing him with an intense glare. "You shall not call me by my name, Mr. Arc." Her irises began to glow red. "You shall only refer to me by 'mistress' from now on. Nothing. Else. Do you understand?"

That glare all but struck fear in him. The blonde's body shook under her menacing glower, sweat dripping down his temple. He could feel the daggers she was sending painfully impaling his eyes, driving them further into his skull the more he stared.

He gulped. "Y-Yes, Sa- I mean, mistress! I-I apologize for my mistakes. I promise it won't happen again."

Salem kept her glare on him for a few more seconds before finally letting him go from her magical grip, making him drop ungraciously to the floor. She shooed him away, "Go."

He wasted no time. Jaune frantically picked himself off from the floor, and without any other word from the witch, hastily darted toward the doors to the kitchen. He pulled them opened and dashed inside, slamming them shut.

The blonde panted heavily, his hands still clutching on the door knobs. Gods, that was intense and scary. It had been like talking to an unpredictable killer, where he had to watch his own words and actions – where one mistake would send a dagger right up his stomach. He could barely keep his 'enthusiastic servant' persona up, not with how Salem seemed to be on the verge of causing him plentiful amounts of pain every second.

And with how her magic grabbed his legs and stopped him... he thought he was done for. Lucky, he was.

Refer to her as mistress only from now on; duly noted.

_ Okay, come on, Jaune. You can do this._ He pep-talked himself up._ It's just breakfast! That's pretty easy, right? You've cooked breakfast a lot of times before. You're practically a natural at this point... well, at least that was what mom would say…_

With a sigh, Jaune pushed himself off the doors. All he needed to do was make a breakfast meal. He had a few dishes in mind, ranging from a simple omelette to a plate of sunny-side-up, toast and beans. He was thankful he wasn't asked of much, just as long as he made it quick and it didn't taste like bugs or raw meat... whatever that meant.

Wasting no more time, Jaune turned around, ready to start cooking, only to stop when he was met with darkness.

Right... no lights... he probably should've expected that.

"Well, looks like I got to find some lights first..." Exhaling a breath, he began making his way through the darkness, waving his arms in front of him to feel for anything he might bump into. His hands eventually landed upon what felt like a wooden counter, and he began using that as guidance.

Soon, his eyes adjusted to the darkness, and he was able to see a lot clearer now. The kitchen wasn't quite large, but it wasn't small either. It seemed to be designed to handle a fairly-sized kitchen staff, considering there were more than one stoves and wood ovens he could see.

There were also a few candles and lanterns he managed to spot, which he guessed were spread out everywhere just like in the dining room. Good. Now he had something to light; the only thing he needed now was something to light them, preferably some matches.

He began searching through the drawers and cupboards, blindly feeling around for matches. They were filled with the usual kitchen tools and wares like knives and bowls, a majority of which were old and dusted, which shouldn't come as a surprise at this point.

Eventually, after rummaging in another drawer, he managed to clasp onto something, his fingers feeling the rough paper. He smiled. A matchbook! And judging by his thumb running against the surface, there were still some matches left inside.

He swiftly fished it out and placed it onto the counter, closing the drawer. He carefully made his way over to a nearby lantern and opened it up. Looking inside, there was still a lot of candle wax left in it, which was good.

Opening the matchbook, he took out a matchstick and struck the tip on the coarse exterior of the book once, then twice, and once more before fire encompassed the red tip. With a shielding hand, he guided the match into the lantern, lighting the wick of the candle inside. Once he was sure the flame wouldn't go out, he took his hand out and waved the match, snuffing the flame.

"There, now we have light." Jaune smiled, feeling the growing warmth of the lantern. Pocketing the matchbook, he grabbed and lifted the lantern. "Now, time to get coo-"

"Hey!"

"GAAAH!" The blonde jumped back in surprise, his arms wildly flailing around before he fell to the floor with a loud _thud!_

"Ow... that hurts..." Jaune groaned, sitting up and nursing his poor back. His eyes widened for a second and he quickly looked down where his hand was. A sigh blew through his lips, relieved that the lantern went unharmed.

He then looked up at the open cupboard above, spotting a familiar someone. His eyebrows furrowed "Nora?"

"Hello!" The mouse waved at him, "Sorry for scaring you again! I didn't mean it!"

"I'm here too," Thomas added, slithering to Nora's side. Behind them, he could see the black-feathered figure of Ren squeezing in through what looked to be a hole in the wall with some obvious difficulty. He managed to squeeze through, though not without face planting onto the floor of the cupboard, letting out a squawk.

Thomas glanced at the owl. "Oh, and Ren too."

Ren quickly gathered himself up. Noticing Jaune, he coughed into his wing in embarrassment. "Hello."

"How'd you guys get in here?" Jaune asked as he got up, "I mean, I can see the hole right in the wall, but there's no way you guys can fit in between the walls, or sneak past Salem in the other side."

Thomas humphed amusedly as he adjusted his monocle. "Oh, you'd be surprised, Jaune. This manor—"

"Anyway, how are you doing?" Nora quickly interrupted, earning a glare from the snake. "Did Salem have you going on some epic adventure to find some mysterious item hidden somewhere? Or... Oh! Did she send you to slay some ghost lurking between the walls? I can be lookout if you want me to! I have good eyes!"

The mouse waved her little paws around with enthusiasm, and he couldn't help but chuckle at her antics. She kind of reminded him of one of his younger sisters, just with a little more energetic and less clingy.

"Well... sorry to disappoint you, but it's none of those things." He shrugged, "Salem just ordered me to make breakfast for her. It's not quite an adventure..."

"Breakfast?" Ren said. He stroke the underside of his beak. "Hmm... If I remember correctly, the pantry here should be somewhat stocked. Some of the ingredients in there might be a little out-of-date, but as long as you're not making anything too fancy, there are lots of things you could work with." He pointed to somewhere behind him. "It's right over there."

Jaune followed his wing towards a lone wooden door behind him, supposedly where the pantry was.

_ Well, that was easy_. Thanking the owl, he picked up the lantern and made his way over to the door, with the other three following right behind him.

Once there, he gripped then twisted the knob. "Okay, time to get coo... king..."

The blonde blinked. He stared confusedly at the numerous empty shelves inside. There was barely anything in the pantry, save for the ever-growing homes of the spiders, a few empty baskets, and the tiny bits and crumbs of bread and other foodstuffs he managed to spot with some hard looking.

"Um..." The blonde looked to Ren, "I thought you said it was stocked?"

"I was telling the truth," The owl said, confused amber eyes glancing around the room, "The last time I checked the pantry was the day before yesterday, and it _was_ stocked. The baskets were filled and everything."

"Then... why is it empty?"

"Maybe it magically disappeared?" Nora suggested, oddly wearing a toothy smile, "I mean, we are in a witch's manor, after all. It could be possible."

"Hmm..." Thomas' eyes narrowed as his tail rubbed the underside of his mouth, "That could be possible, though the pantry could only disappear if Salem wants it to, and there's no reason why Salem would want to get rid of the pantry. That and we're not even sure if Salem _can_ make objects disappear.

"...Which only leaves us with one possibility," The snake slammed his curled tail against the air, "The entire pantry was eaten."

"Eaten?" Jaune raised an eyebrow. He expected something more conventional like the entire pantry being stolen, but he guessed being eaten was also a possibility. "Who could eat an entire pantry in... two days?"

"Yes... who could do such a thing in just two days...?" Thomas narrowed his eyes, "It has to be someone with a large appetite; someone who could eat at the speed of a man who hasn't eaten for days; someone... who couldn't follow a simple rule no matter how much it was said to them..."

He whipped his head up. "...Like a certain white-furred mouse!"

Nora's eyes widened at his conclusion. "Woah, wait! Are you saying _I _ate the entire pantry? Horse apples!"

"Nora, I saw you sneaking into the pantry last night and the night before that!" The snake countered, "Not to mention all the crumbs that were conveniently stuck to your fur during those days!"

The mouse frantically shook her head in denial. "Nuh uh! It's not me! I would never-" She quickly burped, "I would never do something like that! Heck, there isn't even a single hole in here I could sneak in from!"

A loud crash followed, causing them to jump in surprise. Jaune looked behind him and stared down at the small section of the wall that had fallen to the floor, dust gathering up around it. Once it settled, the hole right in the middle of the fallen piece was bright as day, along with an entire pathway made of tiny planks that had been hidden behind it. Small paw prints riddled the dusty path.

Thomas looked up at Nora with closed eyes. "I rest my case."

"W-Wha! I-!" The mouse stammered, then looked down to the owl, "Ren, come on! Help me out here!"

"Nora, as much as I would like to defend you, the evidence is stacked really high against you." His eyes half-lidded unamusedly. "Plus, I did tell you to _not _eat the whole pantry all those times before."

"I... I..." Nora trailed off as she looked down at the two, tears starting to form in her eyes. Her pouting mouth shook, and a second later, the waterworks burst as she threw her paws up. "Okay! Okay! I did it! I ate the entire pantry!" She sobbed uncontrollably, "I was just so hungry! Please, I'm sorry! Take me to jail! Take me to jaaaail!"

She continued to sob and choke. Jaune simply blinked at the overtly dramatic and sobbing mouse, and slowly looked away. "Um... okay... Well, moving in from whatever that was, there must be something left in here that I could use. A few eggs or even some non-stale bread would be enough..."

He stepped into the pantry and began his search for something to make a meal of, placing his lantern in the center of the room for light. Ren and the others followed behind him, joining him on his hunt.

He walked through and past the deserted shelves. Blue eyes scanned and searched throughout the lantern-lit room. It was completely barren of anything that could be cooked. Other than old woven baskets, the shelves contained nothing but dust bunnies and emptiness. They barely even had any crumbs or small bits of what they once contained.

It still kind of surprised him that someone as small as Nora managed to eat everything in this room.

Sure, a mouse eating an entire room's worth of food in the span of two nights was as impossible as balancing a quill on its tip, but he was in a witch's manor, where people got turned into animals and a gooey wolf monster thing roams free in the halls. Perhaps the magic Salem used to turn her into a mouse somehow amplified her appetite? Who knows?

The group continued searching through the empty pantry, desperation beginning to rise within Jaune as time ticked by. He needed to find something cook and quick. He could already feel Salem tapping her fingers on the table outside, ready to burst into the pantry and wring his neck for taking so long.

"Come on, come on..." He moved from yet another empty basket and to a corner of the room. A couple of barrels occupied the corner, though what they once stored, he didn't know.

Not that he would be able to know anyway, for as he checked them, they were all unsurprisingly empty, save for webs and some spiders, making him frown. Why did everything have to be so empty? There had to be something here that Nora left. A slice of bread, a block of cheese; anything at this point!

He was about to move on and search through some more baskets when something behind the barrels caught his eye through the shadows.

Raising an eyebrow, he went back and pushed the barrels aside, and noticed a small wooden chest tucked into the corner, blanketed by the darkness. The blonde took a knee and slid it out from the shadows. There was no lock (thank the gods), and it was a bit light as well, but he could feel some weight inside – a sure sign there was something in here.

He slowly creaked the chest open, carefully peering inside. Once he was sure there wasn't anything that could chomp his face hiding inside, he fully opened the container, and brightened at what he found.

A whole jar of butter!

The blonde grinned. Finally, something good! It may not be much, but it was a start! And it didn't look too out-of-date as well! How wonderful!

Blowing the dust off the glass, Jaune picked the jar up. "Hey, I found butter!"

"We found something too!" He heard Nora's voice from behind, and his eyes caught the other three as they flew to his side, dropping what they had found onto the shelf beside him. "Two slices of hopefully still good bread and some cloves of garlic, which hopefully are still good too!"

"Mhm." Thomas hummed and looked up at the mouse, "Thank the gods you didn't eat _everything_."

Jaune stood up and placed the jar beside the bread and garlic, sacks protecting the latter two from the dust. "Well... we got something to work with now, even though it's not much." He said, tapping his chin, "Now all we need to figure out is what to make with these."

"Ooh! How about pretzels!" Nora suggested, "We could make like breakfast pretzels!"

"Nora, I don't think you can make pretzels out of those." Ren immediately shot her down with reality, "And even if you can, pretzels aren't typically what you eat during breakfast."

The mouse pouted. "Aw..."

Silence followed after that as Jaune tried to think of something to make with these. His options were very limited, and although he somewhat wished he _could_ make pretzels out of some bread, garlic, and a jar of butter, Ren was right. Pretzels aren't something a normal person would eat during breakfast, unless it was the only type of food they had... or they were Nora.

"How about garlic bread?" Thomas eventually suggested.

Jaune raised an eyebrow at him. "Garlic bread?"

"Yes, garlic bread," Thomas repeated, "What, do you not know what garlic bread is?"

"No, I know what it is," Jaune said, then rubbed the back of his neck. "I just... don't know how to make it."

The others blinked. No one said a word for a moment as they all stared incredulously at the blonde, and Jaune couldn't stop himself from fidgeting, feeling that they were silently judging them under their stares..

Eventually, Thomas broke the silence. "Y-You—Really!?" He exclaimed. "You don't know how to make garlic bread!? You must be joking! You know how to cook basic meals yet you don't know how to make garlic bread? Making garlic bread is as easy as blinking, for gods' sake!"

Jaune averted his gaze in embarrassment, warmth creeping up his neck. The recipes he knew were the only ones his mother was able to teach him, right until books and dreaming of being a knight began to distract him more and more from cooking, along with being coerced to do his sisters' chores. He never had the free time to learn more recipes after that, which included garlic bread.

That and his parents limited his use of the kitchen after almost setting fire to the house that one time. Fortunately, he learned his mistakes as time went on. Now, he always had a bucket of water on hand.

Eventually, he heard Thomas sigh. "Well, it looks like I'll just have to teach you then." He pushed his monocle up, "You're lucky I'm considerate enough to grace you with my _extravagant_ cooking skills."

"Um... okay?" The blonde wanted to question him on his supposed 'extravagant cooking skills', considering he had never even seen the snake cook before, but chose to keep quiet.

Thomas nodded and beckoned the blonde as Ren brought him and Nora to the kitchen. "Good, now onwards! We have no time to waste!"

Jaune nodded. He quickly gathered up the ingredients into his arms and followed after them, picking up the lantern on the way. Looks like he was going to learn a recipe he had never made before. Surely, nothing could go wrong with this, right? After all, Thomas said the recipe was as easy as blinking, and he had the snake to guide him along.

Really, what's the worst that could happen?

/=/=/

Jaune quickly stepped out into the dining room. Soot and ashes covered his face and clothes, his hair an absolutely disheveled mess.

A cloud of ash puffed out of his mouth. "Well, that could have gone a lot worse..."

The good thing was that the recipe _was _as easy as blinking. All he had to do was mix up some butter and garlic in a bowl, spread the mix on the cut sides of the bread, and put them in one of the ovens for a few minutes. Unfortunately, Thomas' recipe involved parsley, but he was sure he could leave that out. Hopefully, Salem wouldn't mind that.

The bad thing... he didn't have a bucket of water on hand, and he _may_ have added to much wood to the fire.

Thomas definitely wasn't happy about that.

_"Who in the world messes up making something as simple and easy as garlic bread!?"_

"Oh well," he looked down at the plate in his hands, which he managed to find a somewhat clean one after some searching, "At least the bread made it out safe."

Surprisingly, the bread managed to not get burned to a crisp during that whole fiasco. Instead, it somehow managed to acquire a rich, golden color that would make chefs fawn all over it for its near perfection. Ren had to stop Nora from just jumping at it and gobbling it all up.

How it managed to get so perfect, he had no idea. Heck, he probably didn't want to know. The incredulity of the answer would likely make him lose his mind and go crazy, like someone learning the answers to the entire world.

Ignorance is bliss, they say.

As he neared the table, Jaune straightened himself up, fixing up his hair and dusting off the soot the best he could. Salem was still sitting where she had been, though he could already see signs of her thinning patience with how she was tapping on her knee, a light scowl visible from the side of her face.

He gulped nervously. _Please don't be angry, please don't be angry, please don't be angry..._

"I-I have arrived with your breakfast, m-mistress..." He said, bowing his head down and putting on his servant persona once more.

Salem turned to face him, and he froze on the spot once her glare landed on him. "It took you long enough. And what happened to your face? You're filthy."

"U-Uh..." He wiped his cheek, noticing there was still some soot on his face. "I... had some trouble with the, um... the oven. Too much wood." He said, thinking it was better to just tell the truth. He didn't want to risk telling a lie, lest Salem managed to read through his words.

The witch held her glare on him for a moment longer. She seemingly searched for any form of deceit in his eyes and body language, unknowingly causing the plate in his hands to vibrate from how much he shook, before finally letting him go. "Hm. Let's hope there won't be any further trouble in the kitchen. Now, what have you prepared me?"

"Oh. Um, I have... prepared a plate of garlic bread for you, m-mistress." He said, gesturing the plate toward the witch.

Salem raised an eyebrow. "Garlic bread?"

He tried to not shake under her eyes. "Y-yes, mistress. I... wanted to make something less simple like an omelette, but there was a... shortage... of, um, ingredients in the pantry, so I had to settle with making garlic bread instead."

"Shortage?" Salem said quizzically as she tapped her chin, causing Jaune's heart to race like a frantic horse.

It was sort of the truth. There _was_ a shortage of ingredients; he just… decided to withhold how big the shortage was, or who caused the shortage. It was technically the truth – just not the whole truth. He just hoped she would see it as such.

"Hmm… I was certain it was stocked..." Thankfully, it seemed Salem believed his words, "Hm, Tenebris must have found the pantry then. He has been wanting food a lot more lately."

"Y-Yes... Tenebris, right." Sure, she could conclude it as that. It definitely wasn't Nora who ate the entire pantry and he was trying to drive the blame away from her by outright keeping the entire truth from his mistress. Nope!

Salem sighed a moment later. "No matter. I'll just have to refill the pantry again. Tenebris will be dealt with in due time. Now, my breakfast..."

Jaune took that as his cue and stepped forward, placing the plate upon on the table before her, followed by a clean enough knife and fork he managed to find as well. He then stepped away, fingers nervously fidgeting behind his back as he silently watched her.

Salem eyed the plate before her. She narrowed her eyes, and he could see her head faintly tilt to the side, akin to a curious dog looking at something that was otherworldly to them. Whether it was because she had never seen garlic bread before or because of suspicion, he couldn't tell. The latter, he couldn't blame her for. He'd be wary too, considering poisoning someone's meal was a possibility, especially when it was made by someone who was captured against their will.

And if it was somehow the first reason, then Salem must not go outside very often.

Half-a-minute of careful scrutinizing later and she eventually picked up a slice, carrying it with delicate fingers. She tilted it around, eyeing it here and there as if to get a good, more thorough look at it. She even took a few whiffs, and licked it for good measure.

Jaune couldn't help but awkwardly glance away.

Once it seemed she was sure what she was about to eat wouldn't kill her, she brought the slice to her mouth and took a small bite. The blonde watched anxiously as she chewed and chewed with a speed rivaling that of a sloth, wishing she would chew faster and free him from the anxiety plaguing his entire body.

Who knew watching someone eat could cause so much apprehension?

The witch continued to chew for a moment more until she finally swallowed, her pale neck bobbing up and down as her bite made its way down to her stomach. Silence and worry filled the room, neither of them making a single move.

In spite of this though, Jaune's mind was a chaotic circus. A majority of it was worrying if the bread tasted good and was up to her standards, like a chef being judged by a critic. Other parts were already making elaborate escape plans in case failure was imminent and he needed to run the heck out of there. Dash through the halls, find a low enough window and jump down, and hopefully book it to the gate, and hope to the gods above Salem wouldn't catch him.

Agonizingly slow seconds ticked by, and eventually, Jaune's trepidation was quelled when Salem hummed, and slowly took another bite. And another. And another. She chewed and gulped down her meal much faster now, and it wasn't long until both slices were turned into nothing but crumbs on a plate.

Salem sat silent for a few seconds, then breathed out a surprised hum.

"I... take it you like it, mistress?" Jaune asked.

Salem fished out a white handkerchief from her robe pocket and dabbed her lips of crumbs. "It's... acceptable. Truly not the best meal I've had, but not too terrible either. You've definitely surpassed my expectations."

He couldn't help but let out a ghost of a smile grace his lips. He did it! He cooked something Salem thought was okay and didn't die! He didn't even care that he almost burned the kitchen down or that Salem thought low of him at first. He was still alive! Yay!

"Th-Thank you, mistress." He voiced his gratitude of her letting him live, his glee showing through his voice.

The witch acknowledged his gratitude with a hum and stood from her chair. "Now that breakfast is done, I have more work to assign to you."

His smile instantly faltered. "M-More work...?"

"Yes. You would be a fool to think your only job for today would be to make mediocre-tasting breakfast." Salem walked around her chair and over to him, "If you can still recall, there had been quite a mess left in the parlor whilst you had been trying to escape. Your next task is to simply clean it all up, and to spruce up the parlor itself while you're at it. I'm tired of seeing that room being so shabby."

Jaune tried not to let his shoulders droop. He had to clean all of that? He knew that cleaning up that mess blocking the main entrance was inevitable, but when that was coupled with cleaning the _whole_ parlor? He doubted he could do all of that in a single day.

But he didn't really have much of a choice, did he? If he said no to her, then he was all but certain she would make sure he never said no ever again. He could still her claws digging into his neck...

Jaune eventually sighed. "Y-Yes, mistress."

"Good." She smiled, and began making her way to the doors, "I'll be going back to my work now. You have this day only to do your task."

A click reverberated as Salem retired from the room, heading to who knows where. He stared at the closed doors, and a moment later, the sounds of flapping wings emanated from behind him.

"Cleaning up the whole parlor," Ren said at his side and shook his head, "That's going to be tough."

"But hey, we'll help!" Nora exclaimed, "Salem's probably going to be away with work the whole day, so there's no risk of us being caught helping you! I mean, we will help him, right?"

Thomas sighed and pushed up his monocle. "In spite of you almost burning me to death, it's nigh impossible you could clean the entire parlor by yourself, not in a day at least. But with extra hands... er... well, more like talons, paws, wings and a tail, you could do it."

"I don't really have anything to do today," Ren said, which was much as a notion as any that he was going to help.

Jaune looked to the three of them and couldn't help but smile, a nice, warm feeling vanquishing the sadness growing in his chest. He didn't have a way to repay them, and they probably knew that, yet they still helped him nonetheless. He really needed to find some way to repay them someday. Gods know what he would be doing without them,

"Thanks, guys. I really appreciate it." But for now, he could only offer his gratitude.

"Yes, yes. Try not to get too sappy now." Thomas said, "Now let's go. The sooner we can start, the sooner we can finish."

/=/=/

Minutes after wandering through the halls, the group finally arrived at the parlor. As expected, it was still looking like it hadn't been tended to for centuries, now with a whole new addition of the mirror-image of the aftermath of someone failing to squash a person with a giant bookshelf.

Jaune put his hands on his hips and stared down at the pile of what had once been that shelf. "Is it just me or has that pile of broken wood gotten… bigger?"

"I believe it's just you," Thomas said.

Nora stroked the underside of her muzzle. "No… I think it did get bigger."

"No, it didn't, Nora." The snake looked at her unamusedly, "It's still the same size from yesterday."

"No, it _did_ get bigger. See that bit of wood over there? That wasn't there before!"

Thomas followed where her paw pointed and quickly glared back at her. "That barely counts for anything!"

"Yeah, well, at least _technically_ the pile got bigger!"

Before the two could argue more about the laws and logic of a pile of wood getting bigger, Ren quickly put an end to their impending quarrel. "Enough, you two. We're here to help Jaune clean this up, not argue about if a pile of wood actually got bigger or not."

Nora and Thomas immediately kept their mouths shut after that, but not before sending glares at each other, lightning sparking between them. Ren could only sigh.

Turning his attention away from them, Jaune approached the pile. He took a knee and picked up a piece of wood. It was the size of his hand, and one end was sharp and pointy from being snapped in half. It almost resembled a stake, one which the main character of his books would use to slay a vampire, albeit less refined.

"Do you guys have any cleaning tools around here?" Jaune asked, tossing the wood back into the pile, "Like a broom or some sacks to put this stuff in?"

There was no way he could clean this all up by hand, even with the other three helping him. Brooms could help tremendously with getting the splinters and dust out of the parlor, and some sacks would be nice in order to put all these larger chunks of wood away, which could be used as fuel for fires. And if they're lucky, perhaps he could find some rags in order to get rid of all mold and gunk from the furniture.

Ren hummed and pondered for a moment. "Hmm… If I remember correctly, there is a broom closet somewhere in the back end of the manor."

"Oh yeah, the broom closet!" Nora exclaimed, "It has all sorts of stuff. Buckets, rags, sacks, cobwebs, dust. I think there was even a moldy block of cheese somewhere in there, but it disappeared one day. Totally have no idea what happened to it. Probably got eaten or something, I don't know." She rubbed the back of her neck. "I don't know about brooms though. I can't see any whenever I go through there. I could take us there if you want!"

A broom closet, huh? Well, that just made things a little easier.

Jaune stood up and dusted his pants. "Well then, lead the way."

The group left the parlor and ventured on through the halls once more, with Nora spouting directions to Ren. Occasionally, she would make an error, which lead them to having to backtrack until they were on the right path once more.

A minute or two later, and they finally arrived at yet another door, shabby and decrepit as expected.

Jaune creaked the door ajar, peering an eye inside. As expected of an old closet with no light, it was dark, though it wasn't as dark as the kitchen or the pantry, fortunately. Just opening the door fully could likely give out enough light that they could search in.

Seeing that there wasn't anything that could jump at him, he pushed the door all the way and stepped inside, hearing the flapping of wings following him.

It was no surprise the closet was chock full of dust and all sorts of clutter. Webs occupied the corners, and his nose began itching the second he stepped in, making him cover his nose with an arm. The room was filled with small crates and all sorts of cleaning tools he could use, though heavily disorganized. There were old rags that could help in getting rid of the mold, and they managed to spot a couple of buckets and burlap sacks that could carry all that discarded wood, tossing them all into a neat pile by the door.

He couldn't see any brooms though. Darn.

"Do you guys see any brooms?" Jaune asked, checking behind an empty crate.

"None here."

"No."

"Nope!"

Jaune frowned. Really, no brooms? What's a broom closet without any brooms? This may as well be just a regular old closet conveniently filled with cleaning equipment.

The blonde sighed and got up to his feet after peering inside another crate, which was empty. If there really weren't any brooms in here, then it looks like they would just have to clean that pile up by hand, and use some extra rags in cleaning out the dust on the floor. He could go through other rooms and hope he would find a broom, but that would take even more time, and he would likely waste that time if there wasn't a single broom in this manor.

"Well, let's just go." He said and picked up the buckets and sacks they found, "We're just going to have clean the pile by hand. I don't want to waste more time searching for one broom."

The other three nodded, and Jaune began following them out of the room. He was about to take a step into the hall, when—

_Crash!_

A crash from further inside the closet got their attention, their heads snapping to where it came from. It wasn't a loud, head-on crash, but it sounded more like something heavy falling to the floor from a high shelf.

"What the heck was that?" Nora asked.

"I don't know," Jaune said. He looked to the mouse. "Are you sure this isn't someone else's room?"

"This room was always empty of anyone whenever I go through here," Nora said.

"Hmm…" He stroked his chin, narrowing his eyes as he peered at where the sound likely came from.

"Hey, Tenebris can't go invisible or change size, right?"

Nora raised an eyebrow at his sudden question. "Um… no…? At least I don't think he can. Why?"

The blonde placed the buckets and sacks down on the floor and took a step towards the source of the sound. Whether they were going to voice their protests or not, he didn't know. He stepped around a couple of chests, squeezing through some crates. He knew the first rule whenever you hear a weird, sudden noise is to simply _not _go to where that noise was, at least if you don't have a way to defend yourself.

But so far, the only ones with no qualms on killing him in this manor were Tenebris and Salem, the latter only if he managed to anger her. And this closet was way too small for that wolf monster to fit in, let alone hide completely out of sight.

He could only hope Nora's answer was true.

After stepping over some more unimportant stuff, Jaune finally managed to get to where the source of the sound was…

…Only to find absolutely nothing. His eyes peered around. He couldn't see anything out of place, anything that stood out from the mess of equipment and junk – just a bunch more empty crates, webs and dust bunnies.

He let out a short hum, feeling somewhat relieved that Tenebris hadn't jumped out from some pile of junk and chomped his entire head off. Yet again, he lived to see another day.

Concluding it was nothing after all, he began making his way back to the others when—

_Crash!_

Jaune yelped as he spun around, flailing his arms about in a weak show of defending himself. Okay, scratch his conclusion. That sounded really close. Something was definitely in here!

After a moment more, the blonde's flailing gradually slowed down. He panted, and his shaky eyes peered about at the shadows, searching for anything that could jump at him. But when he found nothing but the sounds of his own heavy breathing, his arms dropped to his sides.

Huh, nothing… again…

"Jaune, are you okay in there?"

The blonde blinked back to reality at the sound of Ren's voice. "Uh… I'm fine, just—huh?"

When he took a step, something pressed against the bottom of his shoe. He looked down with furrowed eyebrows, wondering what that was, only to raise them once more in surprise.

A broom!

He grinned at the sight and picked it up. Huh, how convenient was that? A broom suddenly at his feet, and in good condition too! It was as if the gods heard his words and decided to finally give him a break this one time.

Thank you, gods!

Remembering he left the owl with half an answer, he said back. "I'm fine! I just managed to find a broom!"

"How great. Can we go now?" Thomas said, followed by a sneeze, "This dust is absolutely violating my nostrils!"

Hearing that, Jaune began making his way back to the others, only to stop at his step when he felt a vibration in his hands.

_Huh?_ He looked down at the broom, furrowing his eyebrows. It stayed still for a second, only to vibrate and shake once more and with even more intensity.

He blinked. "Uh—WAH!"

His shoulders were almost pulled out of their sockets as the broom suddenly took flight and pulled him along, crashing through the numerous crates and out the broom closet.

Ren and the others managed to dodge the speeding blonde and broom in time. They approached and quickly peered their heads out of the door, and were able to catch a split-second glimpse of a white, black and gold blur darting past a corner. High-pitched screams echoed down the hall, fading until they were too far to hear.

"Um… was that a flying broom?" Nora asked.

Thomas nodded, staring wide-eyed down the hall. "I believe so…"

"Come on, guys." Ren said and began flying after the blonde, "We have to catch them before something bad happens to Jaune."

/=/=/

Girlish screams of utter fear echoed and bounced off the walls as the somehow flying broom continued to drag Jaune through the many halls. Dust and wind whizzed past and grazed his face, his mop of blonde hair flapped about and fluttered from the winds he was blazing through, and his legs felt more like wet pasta at this point.

Not to mention the sick feeling constantly rising and urging to break free through his mouth. He tried his best to keep what little he ate in between girlish screams.

The broom continued to drag him through the air, flying around corners and slapping his body around like a ragdoll, zero care for his well-being. All the while, Jaune tried his best to keep his grip on the broom, for fear he might coat the floors with his own blood.

He didn't know how long it took, too busy screaming his lungs out to know, but eventually, the fly-away broom managed to fly its way to the parlor. It stopped its speedy flight to a halt almost instantly, and once more he felt his shoulders nearly get pulled out of their sockets. He was now left dangling high up in the air, gripping the broom with all the strength he had.

He looked down at the floor below him. Oh gods, that was a long way down. From here, he was guaranteed to break another ankle, perhaps even a whole leg yet again.

Taking a guess on what the broom was trying to do, he looked up at it. "P-Please don't drop me…" He said, hoping it could understand him. It was somehow able to fly, so surely it was sentient too, right?

His plead for mercy was unfortunately met with the broom jolting downward, which caused him to yelp and almost lose his grip. His heart pounded and sweat ran down his head, and oh gods, he was going to hurl any moment now.

If he ever got out of this, he was never trusting another broom ever again.

The familiar squeaks of a certain mouse sounded from where he had come from, and relief waved through as Ren and the other arrived to the scene, the owl panting from chasing him down.

"Guys, help!" He called. The strength in his fingers was waning, his hands slowly slipping off the handle of the broom.

"Don't worry, Jaune! Just hold on!" Nora said, then pointed a finger at the broom, "Hey, broom! I don't know what you've got with Jaune here, but if you put don't put him down now, I swear on my mouse life that I will nibble you to splinters!"

Her order was met with another down jolt. His fingers continued to slip.

"Okay, aggressive tactics failed. I'm going to try a calmer approach." The mouse inhaled and let out a smooth breath. "Hey, broom. Would you be a nice piece of cleaning equipment and kindly put down our friend? You see, we kind of _don't _want him to get hurt. So if you can, that'd be really nice of you."

The broom stayed motionless for a moment. Jaune began to think her calmer approach worked, only to feel his stomach drop again when the broom nearly dropped him once more.

_Keep it in, Jaune. Keep it in._

Nora let out a huff of defeat. "Well, I'm out of ideas."

"Why don't we just tackle the broom?" Thomas' question was immediately met with another jolt, "Okay, fair point."

The owl sighed. "Look, broom, whoever you are." Ren started calmly, "I don't know what Jaune did to make you so angry, but whatever it was, I'm sure he didn't mean it. From the short time I've known him, I'm certain he wouldn't hurt an ant even if he was paid all of the gold on Remnant. Unless of course, that ant was secretly evil, then he'd make an exception. But you're no evil ant, so I'm sure that Jaune didn't mean to do whatever he did to you. So please… put him down."

The parlor went silent. Tension waved throughout the occupants. Ren and the other two watched the broom with anxiety laced in their eyes, while Jaune simply remained wordless, his arms shaking as he tried to keep himself from falling and breaking a leg.

Minutes, which felt more like hours to everyone, passed, and slowly but surely, the broom descended back down to the ground. Ren, Nora and Thomas waited and watched carefully, and it wasn't until Jaune's feet met the ground that they immediately flew over to check on him.

"Are you okay?" Ren asked.

The blonde caught his breath, bent over with his hands on his knees. "Y-Yeah… I'm fine… A little sick in the stomach, but I'm fine nonetheless."

"Well, isn't that dandy?" Thomas asked, almost no care in his voice. He then nodded to his side. "So, what do we do about the broom?"

Jaune looked up from his panting. The broom that had caused him fear and sick stomachs for the past few minutes stood by the group idly. It floated upright just a few inches above the ground. It showed no emotion, being a broom, but Jaune could nonetheless feel a glare piercing his eyes.

"Wh-Who are you?" Jaune asked, taking a wild guess that if the broom was sentient, then it could probably talk as well. Dumb logic, but it couldn't hurt to try.

His guess was unfortunately proven wrong when the broom simply floated there, wordless. The only response he got was a short rustle of its bristles and nothing more. He guessed that was its way of talking, though he had no knowledge on broom body language.

Heck, he didn't even know if broom body language was an actual thing.

Thomas hummed conclusively. "Well, at least we now know it can't talk."

"It can understand us, at least." Ren added, then looked back to the broom, "So, would you mind telling—I mean, showing us why you decided to fly away and drag Jaune through the halls?"

The owl's statement was proven correct when the broom rustled its bristles with more intensity this time, then turned around. Not seeing what the broom was pointing to at first, they all raised their eyebrows, but after closer scrutiny, they managed to spot a small blot of black on its handle. It was a bit smudged, but even closer scrutiny made it out to be the faint shape of a shoe.

"Wait, you're angry because I stepped on you?" Jaune asked, and was met with another rustle of bristles. He blinked, and scratched the back of his head. "...Okay, well, I'm sorry for stepping on you. It was an accident. I mean, I didn't see you and… I think you kind of rolled under my foot, so technically, you let me step on you—Ow!" He yelped when the broom struck its handle on his shoulder. "Okay, okay! All my fault! You had nothing to do with it! All me!"

"Okay, that's good." Ren turned to the broom. "Though I do think you also owe him an apology for suddenly flying him through the manor."

"And for nearly making me hurl." The blonde added. He could still feel a bit of a rumble in his stomach.

The broom frowned featurelessly, turning around and away from them. It had no arms, but he could see it crossing them as it rustled its bristles in an 'I don't want to!' kind of way.

Ren's eyes half-lidded, frustration laced in the amber. "Apologize."

Another rustle, and it still didn't turn around.

The owl's annoyed eyes turned into a glare. "Do it..."

A shiver ran down Jaune's spine. He didn't know Ren could look so menacing.

Remind him to not make the owl angry.

The broom hovered motionlessly for a moment, seemingly wanting to disobey once more, but with glare being sent at it, it eventually let up. It sighed without actually sighing and finally turned around to face Jaune. The rustle it made was quick, and before he knew it, it turned its back on him once again.

Jaune blinked. "Um…" The blonde looked off to the side, then back. "...I have no idea what you were trying to say, but I'll take it as an apology."

_Rustle. Rustle._

Again, no idea what it just said.

"Well, now that that whole fiasco is over." Thomas adjusted his monocle, "Time to clean. No more wasting time."

"But wait, we don't even know its name yet!" Nora exclaimed, earning an exasperated groan from the snake. It seemed he had something to say to the mouse, but instead kept it to himself and simply grumbled.

"Well, it can't talk, so it can't even tell us its name if it had one." Ren looked to the broom, "Do you even have a name?"

The broom seemingly pondered on the question, and after a moment, it shook itself from side to side, wordlessly saying 'No'.

Nora gasped dramatically, placing her paws to her chest. Tears welled up in her eyes. "Oh my gosh, that's so sad! Stuck in a dark broom closet for who knows how long _and_ you have no name? That's even sadder than that one play Ren and I watched." She looked down at the owl, "Can we give it a name, Ren? Please? Pretty please?"

"I don't see why not."

"Yes!" Nora was practically bouncing where she sat. "Oh, how about Broomy!"

"That's a terrible name!" Thomas exclaimed. He then adjusted his monocle. "Constantacius sounds much better."

Nora looked down at the snake with a feather of frustration in her eyes. She grumbled and crossed her paws. "And you're telling me mine's terrible…"

"How about Dusty?" Jaune suggested. His answer was met with a hard smack on the shoulder. "Ow! Okay, bad name!"

"Hmm…" Ren hummed, narrowing his eyes in thought. His eyes peered down at the lower half of the broom, and after a moment, an idea seemingly popped into his head. "Bristle. How about Bristle? Does it sound good to you?"

Jaune watched as the broom hunched over as if contemplating the suggestion. After a few seconds, it perked up and began hopping in the air, a happy sounding rustle of its bristles.

Looks like it liked the name.

"Well, Bristle it is!" Nora declared. "Now that that's over, want to help us clean up the parlor? We're going to need some more help if we want this parlor spick and span, and you'd be a big help!"

Bristle stared at the three animals for a moment, then turned to Jaune, then back, then back to Jaune. It seemingly looked down, and Jaune followed its eyeless look down to his hands. He looked back up at the broom and realized why it was fixated on his hands.

He was the only one capable of handling Bristle, and he wasn't exactly on good terms with the sentient broom.

The blonde raised his hands up. "I promise I won't hurt you or do anything weird, Arc's promise."

Bristle silently stared at him for a few, yet long seconds, before seemingly sighing in defeat. It turned to the others and nodded its handle, followed by some incomprehensible rustling.

"I'll take that as a 'yes'," Thomas said.

Ren turned around and began flying back to once they came, Nora and Thomas ever so joining him. "Well, we're going to get the buckets and sacks. We'll get started once we're back."

Jaune watched the animals fly away, soaring past a corner and finally out of the parlor, which left him and Bristle all alone.

He turned to the broom, who faced him as well. It had no eyes, yet he could still feel the glare it was sending him, piercing splinters into his own pair of eyes.

"You're going to be a pain to deal with, aren't you?" _Smack._ "Ow! Yeah… I thought as much."

/=/=/

Jaune and Bristle swept the last of the splinters and dust out of the now clear doorway, specks and motes gathering up in the air before flying away in the wind, never to be seen again. It had been hours since the group had started cleaning up the parlor, and he must say, it was looked pretty great. The dust that had encompassed everything was no more, picked up by the wind and set free to the outside world. The numerous mold and mildew on the furniture were now scrubbed off by the rags they found, and the big pile of broken wood that had once blocked the entrance was now put into sacks and buckets, stored away to be used as fuel for fires.

Looking around the room, Jaune smiled. It was looking more like an actual parlor guests and visitors would prefer to stay in now instead of a clear sign of abandonment and impending danger.

"And all of it was done before the sun fully set." He uttered and glanced back at the orange hue of the cloudy sky, the sun only halfway down the horizon line.

There was a rustle of bristles beside him, quickly followed by yet another smack to his shoulder. He yelped in pain and clasped his pained shoulder, glaring at the broom that hovered before him.

Oh yeah, Bristle. Saying he had trouble cleaning with the darn broom would be an understatement. If he had to count on his fingers how many times his shoulder was smacked and struck by the broom, he would need at least four more hands. There was no doubt a bruise was going to form, if not already formed.

At least it didn't hit him where it hurt the most, otherwise he would have to say goodbye any future children he was unlikely to have.

He heard the flapping of wings nearby and turned to see Ren and the others flying in from one of the hallways. "We put the last of the wood and cleaning supplies back in the broom closet." The owl said, "If you don't mind, we're going to go hit the hay. We're a bit tired." He emphasized this by nodding toward the other two, Nora snoring away atop his head while Thomas simply had an exhausted look on his face, too tired to even speak.

"Oh, okay. I'll see you tomorrow, I guess."

The blonde quickly thanked him for their help, earning a nod of acknowledgment from the owl. He watched as he turned and left the parlor, the flaps of his wings fading until it was no more. Bristle also left too, but not before smacking him once more on the shoulder and rustling its bristles menacingly like a growling dog. He could only do as much as glare at it as it disappeared into a hallway. To where, he didn't know.

He now stood alone in the parlor, silence being his only companion in the room. Noticing the quiet, he sighed. "I guess I should go to sleep as well. It's been a long day." He said, wincing when he tried to roll his poor shoulder.

Yup, definitely going to bruise.

He let out a bellowing yawn and turned to the doors. Grabbing them by their sides, he had intended on closing them, but something in the distance caught his eye. Something… familiar…

He brought his eyes up, and it was then he got a clear view of his object of sudden interest. The gate. The metallic, black-colored gate that had once struck apprehension and fear in him when he had first arrived here around a day ago. With the thickly dense darkness now absent, the gate seemed so near. So close. So… reachable, as if it would take only mere seconds of running before he could feel the old metal poles in his hands. The familiar screeching that showed its age, as he slowly pulled the gates opened, and—

"Don't even think about it."

The calm yet fierce voice pierced through the silence like a knife against paper, and Jaune quickly turned around to see Salem standing by across the parlor. Her appearance was the same as before with her dark robe and pale skin, but with quick scrutiny, he could see some distinct black and red blots where her pale skin was shown, as if dyed water had splashed onto her. What those blots actually were was a mystery to him.

His eyes went wide. "I… uh—"

"You read like an open book, Mr. Arc." She said, her voice calm as ever, "So close… so near… as if you could simply reach it if you just held out your hand." Her eyes narrowed to a glare. "What I said wasn't a lie, Mr. Arc. I _will_ know, and there _will_ be consequences if you do so."

His body stood frozen under her glare, and he tried to keep himself from shaking in fear. It was hard to when those dark, menacing eyes seemingly stared into his very soul.

"So, if you prefer to continue walking on this godforsaken, cruel world," She began walking away, "I suggest you close those doors, and never think of it ever again."

The blonde gulped and meekly nodded, watching the witch as she left the parlor. It was only a minute after she was gone did he calm down, sighing in relief and wiping off the sweat that had accumulated on his head. His heart pumped loudly in his ears, and it wasn't of the good kind.

Her words echoed in his mind. How she knew what his mind had drifted to was beyond him. Perhaps the thought of escape was the only association with that gate? Or perhaps… she was more powerful than he had perceived her to be? It was a sea of possibilities; the reason could be anything, really. He just wished it wasn't the latter.

And his mind didn't dare to ponder on the supposed 'consequences'. Nightmares were the last thing he wanted right now.

He let out a sigh and turned around, gripping the doors by their sides. He was tired, and any semblance of joy and accomplishment was now long gone. All he wanted now was some shut-eye.

The last thing he saw before the doors closed was the metal gate at the end of the path.

He couldn't help but feel it taunted him.

* * *

**Alright, boys. Pack it up, go home! This ain't a Jaune x Salem fic no more. We're a Jaune x Sentient Tsundere Broom fic now. We're shipping Jaune with a literal object now.**

** Well, that's that chapter done. The next one might be as slow to come out since I'm going to be spending some time getting my bearings and actually making outlines and character profiles and stuff like that so that I don't lose track, because up to here, it's all been written by the seat of my pants. **

**And regarding the reviews thing: please please please please please please please please give me critique! Give me advice! Tell me what you think is wrong with this chapter and what I can do to improve future ones! I'm trying to better myself as an author and storyteller and improve my writing skills, but I can't if all the reviews I get is "I can't wait for the next chapter!" or a review that just talks about what happens in the chapter or some other crap like that.**

**Basically, don't sugarcoat your reviews and be nice. Give me advice and constructive criticism!**

** ...And also give me some ideas for future plot points. I've got some ideas on my notes, but I feel like they won't do the story justice. If you have an idea that could work for the story, by all means, share it!**

** Well, that's it. See ya next chapter!**

** ~Christian Maulkner, a Weezer fan who hates Weezer (i.e. a normal Weezer fan)**

** (Fun fact: Nora and Ren are based off two characters from Too Many Curses. Guess who.)**


	5. Please Read

(TL;DR at bottom)

Hey.

No, this isn't a new chapter. I just came here to say that I am likely never going back to this story (or my other stories). I noticed that new readers are still following this story in my email inbox, likely hoping that this story gets updated after months of absence who I know for sure hadn't read my other uploads on here.

I already said this in my "premise ideas and goodbyes" post, but I'll say this again: I got tired and frustrated of the show falling even further into the deep, deep hole it dug for itself. In the earlier volumes, the show was shit, but it was at least decent enough that it could be a guilty pleasure show I watch that I'm embarassed to tell people I actually watch.

Now it's just a heaping pile of rotten, gay-infested shit that is somehow even worse than actual shit. At that point, I just gave up and stopped watching altogether, leaving the fandom and fanfiction writing for other things that aren't... well... RWBY and fanfiction writing.

So where does that leave this story? Well, as you can guess from the summary, it's up for adoption. I already left a very rough (and likely very bad) plot outline in my "premise ideas and goodbyes" story - just ignore the A-Logging, I was seething at the time. Use that if you want to, or just completely change the goal of the story overall.

And if you do adopt this story, just do me a favor: don't fuck it up.

And don't add that lesbian-gay shit into it either. This fandom is already infested with so much degeneracy and sodomy, I don't want this story to be plagued as well.

(And to all the pearl-clutchers who REEEE'd at that last statement, perform genital self-mutilation and 41% yourselves)

Anyway, there's also the story that I have mentioned above that has a bunch of story ideas I had during my time of writing fanfiction. Some of them are shit, some of them are eh. Do what you like with those ideas. Maybe you'll write one of the stories I've always wanted to write after Salem's Servant.

And credits aren't even needed. Just a good story based off those ideas is enough for me.

So yeah, I'll probably still use this account to read other shit and maybe shitpost about Jaune loving the Jews and other outlandish things. But until then, see all of you fags and degenerates in hell.

~Christian Maulkner

**TL;DR Bullet Point:**

Never coming back to this story, left because show sucks and I'm interested in other things now.

Salem's Servant is up for adoption, just don't add yuri and yaoi bullshit and don't fuck it up.

My other story "premise ideas and goodbyes" has a rough plot outline for Salem's Servant and a bunch of ideas for stories and fanfics you guys can use at your will.

I'll still use this account for shitp- loving Israel and other wholesome things approved by the Jewish overlords up in Silicon Valley.

Miles and Kerry can go fuck themselves and Vic Mignogna was a good boy who did nothing wrong.


End file.
